Failure Is An Option
by RosiePosieRW
Summary: Instead of going to Severus for help with her son, Narcissa Malfoy goes to the last person she would have thought to go to for help – her son's rival, Harry Potter.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey guys! First of all, I'd like to apologise immediately for my lack of writing these past two years. ****I have decided to publish this today because I feel very guilty for keeping you all waiting for so long. And what of the title, you ask? Well, I am calling this story HP6 Alternate no longer - from now on, it will be called _Failure Is An Option_, based on the results from my poll. Thanks to all those who voted, and I have a long list of special acknowledgements - some for voting on the poll, and others for just sticking by me this whole time.**

**I'd like to start off by thanking my beta and friend, Cindelina, for supporting me all this time. I don't know where I would be without all of her help. She's a truly wonderful person at heart, and a great writer as well. Do take the time to read her stories if you haven't already! **

**Here is the list:**

**• BrieflySweet  
• TrisanaChandler13  
• Whisper-of-Warning  
• Divess  
• Butterfree  
• nekocandy4life  
• SaySaeri**

**Thank you all very, very much for your support. :)**

**Anyway, I won't bother you anymore with my ramblings. Happy reading!**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Prologue

A faint _pop_ could be heard from an old, abandoned building – a warehouse, to be precise. A slim, petite and obviously feminine silhouette had appeared out of nowhere, and was wearing a rather baggy cloak with the hood covering her whole head. The lady set off with light, quick strides to a nearby telephone booth, her long cloak rustling along the concrete as she studied the pages of a phone book for the address of the person she was looking for.

She was glad that the meddlesome Muggle and his mudblood lover had come in handy for something; a simple Imperius Curse and she had gotten all the information she needed to know about Muggle London and how to use Muggle contraptions.

Once she had found what she was looking for, she used an odd, feather-like pen to write something down on a piece of paper and then began walking down the street. Upon passing an elderly man trimming a hedge in front of his house, she stopped in her tracks and asked him for directions to the address she had written down. The kind Muggle pointed her in the direction that would lead her to the house she was looking for. She thanked the man, and although her first instinct was to Avada Kedavra him, she reconsidered that action – she didn't want to end up in Azkaban, especially at dangerous times like these – so she left him be.

She quickened her pace and went across several streets until she came to the park right by the street she was looking for. Another louder _pop_ sounded in the park and another hooded figure materialised. This one had a more curvaceous figure than the first woman, who was thin as a stick and whose robes barely hung off her bony shoulders.

"Wait!"

Upon hearing the harsh cry, the first woman spun around and immediately drew out a curious little twig and held it in front of her like a sword, ready to attack the person who dared to interrupt her mission, or to do away with any suspecting Auror. When she saw the other woman, who did not appear to be intimidated by the strange apparatus in the first woman's grip, she sighed.

"Put your wand down, Cissy," the second woman told her lazily.

Narrowing her eyes, the first woman slowly lowered the twig – or rather, the wand – but did not stow it away. The second woman began walking towards her.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" the wand-bearing woman hissed.

"I could ask you the same question, Cissy."

"Go away! I don't want you interfering with my important mission. And don't you dare say that it's not worth doing."

"Cissy – Narcissa – listen to me!"

"I've listened already. I've made my decision. Leave me alone!" the woman named Narcissa snapped.

Once Bella had approached Narcissa, the former grasped the latter by the shoulders and shook her severely, trying to knock some sense into her.

"Cissy, wait! You can't do this! You're my sister – I won't let you! You can't go to him! What would the Dark Lord think of you if He finds out – when He finds out? Everyone knows you can't hide anything from Him. He'll find out sooner or later, and when He does, the consequences will be disastrous. Lucius and Draco will pay the price for your traitorous actions; in other words, they will both be killed, and you will be forced to watch while they are killed!"

"I cannot let this go on, Bella!" Narcissa cried stubbornly. "The Dark Lord is only using Draco as a punishment for Lucius' wrongs! My only son, Bella! I will not let him die! If I am found and branded as a traitor, then so be it. But I will _not_ let my only son die under the hand of the Dark Lord!" She then raised her twig again and brought it down, hard, onto Bella's forearm like a knife, and there was a flash of light. Bella snatched her arm back as if she had been burnt.

Narcissa continued walking down the street as if nothing had happened, and the other woman, Bella, followed at once. Narcissa did not stop until she reached the house with the number 4 on the small metal box by the gate. The front garden was in a very pristine condition, and the lawn had not one single blade of grass out of place.

"So this is number 4, Privet Drive," Narcissa muttered under her breath, a look of utter disgust shown clearly on her shadowed, aristocratic face. "The famous Harry Potter lives in a dump like this? Hah!" She could not understand how those filthy Muggles could stand living in a place like this. But, she supposed, Muggles were Muggles.

"Cissy! What about the wards? The wards Dumbledore put up? You'll set them off!"

"If the intruder has no intention of causing harm to Potter or his family, then the wards will not go off. The magic will let us pass through."

"Cissy, _wait_!"

But Narcissa was not listening. She strode into the driveway and threw back her hood. She was so pale that she seemed to shine in the darkness; the long blonde hair streaming down her back gave her the look of a drowned person. When she reached the door, she knocked one, two, three times and waited anxiously for any sound of movement within the house.

Bella followed her, and lowered her hood more slowly. Dark as her sister was fair, with heavily lidded eyes and a strong jaw, she did not take her gaze off the door as she moved to stand behind Narcissa.

Sure enough, a muffled groan could be heard from within, and after a bit of scuffling, the heavy oak door finally opened to reveal a big, beefy man with a large purple face. He had thick, dark hair, a bushy black moustache, with hardly any neck and small, blue, mean eyes.

"Whaddaya want?" the man growled, his tiny, watery eyes flickering between the two sisters suspiciously.

Both women were taken aback by the rough, jumbled words – or so they thought – that came from his mouth, but Narcissa quickly collected herself and replied in what she believed to be a kind but brisk voice, "I believe this is the Potter house?"

The man looked alarmed for a second. "Potter? We have no Potters here," he said sharply.

Bella narrowed her eyes; she could tell that he was clearly lying.

"You are telling me that you have never heard of Harry Potter?"

"Harry Potter?" a voice came from behind the man.

Narcissa stood on her toes to see an exact copy of the fat man, except the double had a thick thatch of dark blond hair and looked much, much younger – a teenage boy, perhaps.

"He's my cousin. He's inside." He shoved the other man out of the way, and looked Cissy up and down. "You look funny. You wear funny clothes. You're the same as Harry. I can bring him to you if you want to take him away. That'd be awesome."

"Dudley," warned the man, but was ignored.

"T-take him away?" Narcissa looked confused. "Why on earth would I want to do that?"

"Well, you're the funny police, aren't you? You've come here to take him away."

Narcissa frowned. "No, I am not the 'funny police', and I have certainly not come here to take Potter away. No, I have come here to speak with him."

The man's jaw dropped.

"You want to see Harry?" He couldn't understand why his nephew was so popular with the 'funny people' – the boy was only a nasty little snot, who couldn't obey anyone to save his life.

Bella decided that this man was not worth her patience.

"Yes, we want to see the boy, and we want to see him now!" she snapped.

"Now, don't get smart with me, missy," the man began angrily, pointing a fat finger in her face.

"Dad –"

"Quiet, boy. Ladies, I don't know who you think you are, but you're crazy if you think I'm just going to let you into my hous–"

"Vernon?" another voice called from the hallway, and this time it was a feminine one. "Vernon? Who is it?" From behind Dudley emerged a thin, blonde-haired woman with pale eyes and nearly twice the usual amount of neck. "Who are these people?"

Bella and Narcissa looked at the woman, both clearly irritated. Honestly, how many people were going to interrogate them, for Merlin's sake?

"My name is Narcissa Malfoy, and this is my sister Bellatrix. I would like to see Harry Potter – who I know lives here."

"You want Harry?" The woman's eyes widened with realisation. "You – you're – you're from the – you're those freaks! You're _freaks_! Freaks like my sister was! You have no place here – get out, get out, out, OUT!" She then proceeded to slam the door in Narcissa's surprised face, but then another voice interrupted them.

"Aunt Petunia? What are you doing?"

Everybody froze.

The voice spoke again, this time louder, and closer.

"Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon? Dudley? What's going on?"

The Dursleys quickly moved away – partly in fear of the 'freaks', but also to make way for the owner of the voice to come through.

Narcissa gasped softly when she saw who had spoken; a boy, no older than sixteen, with untidy, jet-black hair - which, she presumed, covered the famed lightning-shaped scar, a result of the failed Killing Curse cast on him by the Dark Lord when he was an infant - and startlingly green, almond-shaped eyes that were framed with round-rimmed glasses. He was small and skinny, with a thin face and knobbly knees - not at all like the other two overweight males he lived with.

Bellatrix just looked at him with contempt.

"_Harry Potter_," Narcissa breathed in wonder.

Harry's sharp eyes fell on the Lady Malfoy and her companion, and though he tried his best to keep his face impassive, a sneer curled his lip.

"Narcissa Malfoy," he spoke through gritted teeth, "what are you doing in Muggle London? Parading about the streets just to remind yourself how high and mighty you are? Or, perhaps, going around killing innocent people, like the pathetic Death Eater I know you are."

"How dare you!"

Both Narcissa and Harry turned to see a furious Bellatrix pointing her wand at Harry.

"How dare you insult us, Potter! You think your name can save yourself? You think the Dark Lord won't kill you as soon as he sees you? But I don't shouldn't blame you, giving that senile old man who calls himself Headmaster of Hogwarts treats you like his favourite pet. But don't worry; he won't be around for much longer!"

"Bellatrix Lestrange," snarled Harry, like an angry wolf. "How dare _you_ show your ugly face here!" He also pulled out his wand and aimed it at Bellatrix.

The Dursleys looked scared to death; they huddled even closer together, and moved farther away from Harry and the two other women.

Narcissa panicked; her plan did not involve getting into a fight with the Potter boy. She raised her wand and ordered in a loud, clear voice, "Wands down, both of you! Bella, Potter, I don't want to have to hurt either of you but I will if you don't put away your wands - even if there are Muggles here."

Both Bellatrix and Harry slowly lowered their wands and kept their tempers to a minimum, though that did not stop them from sending each other death-glares.

"Now, as for why we are here. We come in peace, Potter," Narcissa said, calmly.

Harry snorted. "Peace? I don't think either of you have even the slightest idea what 'peace' is, Mrs Malfoy. Don't talk to me about 'peace' if you know what's good for you."

"Please just hear me out, Potter. I repeat; I come in peace. I have no intention of harming you or your family."

"Then what is it you want? I hardly think pure-bloods like you would walk willingly around the streets of Muggle London and surround yourselves in the filth you call the human beings who are below you," Harry ground out.

Bellatrix was outraged. The nerve of this boy!

However, Narcissa thought differently. This boy was so much like her own Draco, yet so very different. He was brave enough to speak the truth and nothing but the truth, even if the truth itself was harsh. Had she made the right choice by coming here? Or was she simply signing her own death warrant?

"Well?" demanded Harry. "You said you wanted to see me; now you are, and I want to know why you are here. Come on, I haven't got all day."

"Cissy," Bellatrix warned, but Narcissa paid her no attention.

"I..." She hesitated a while before replying in a croaking whisper, "I need your help."

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**A/N: Ooh. I wonder what Narcissa needs help with - and from Harry Potter, too! As this is only the prologue to the story, it will all be revealed later in the story. :)**

**What do you think? Is it too boring? Let me know your thoughts and opinions in a review!**

******One more thing before I go - you can always check my profile page for notices and other things to stay on track. I update my profile very regularly - sometimes even daily - with notices and stuff to keep you guys up-to-date. If you're wondering why, it's just a really useful way to communicate with everyone without having to PM.**


	2. Prologue 2 -rewrite of original Prologue

**A/N: Hello, everybody! Sorry, this is not a new chapter. This is a rewrite of the prologue.**

**Now, you must be wondering why I am posting another prologue. Well, firstly - no, I am not posting another prologue; this is simply a rewrite of the original prologue. **

**I have received a lot of (extremely helpful) constructive criticism from a certain fanfiction writer whom I will not name (until I have her permission to), and she tells me that there are a few minor problems with my Prologue that may lead to bigger problems further on in the story. I'm telling you this because I'm planning to rewrite some parts of the Prologue that she pointed out, and I just want to let you know that the Prologue may be different (I don't know how much) the next time you decide to go back and read it. But Chapters 1-5 will remain exactly as they are until I get any more feedback from other people saying I should change them.**

**Also, I have been told that I have made an error in the whereabouts of the Dursleys' home. Harry Potter lives in Little Whinging, Surrey, not in London. I am terribly sorry for this mistake, and I have to thank another reviewer, Teufel1987.**

**My beta has no idea about this, so keep in mind that this is not edited - and I apologise for any errors. :)**

**I must acknowledge my fellow friends, mazariamonti and Teufel1987, who has helped me by pointing out the mistakes in my writing.**

**One more thing - you can choose not to read this rewrite if you don't want to. If you decide that the original prologue is better than this rewrite, that's absolutely fine; you can choose to ignore this update.**

**Enjoy! (I hope this is better than the original one)**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Prologue (rewrite)

A faint _pop_ could be heard from an old, abandoned building – a warehouse, to be precise. A slim, petite and obviously feminine silhouette had appeared out of nowhere, and was wearing a rather baggy cloak with the hood covering her whole head. The lady set off with light, quick strides to a nearby telephone booth, her long cloak rustling along the concrete as she studied the pages of a phone book for the address of the person she was looking for.

She was glad that the meddlesome Muggle and his mudblood lover had come in handy for something; a simple Imperius Curse and she had gotten all the information she needed to know about Muggle London and how to use Muggle contraptions.

Once she had found what she was looking for, she used an odd, feather-like pen to write something down on a piece of paper and then began walking down the street. Upon passing an elderly man trimming a hedge in front of his house, she stopped in her tracks and asked him for directions to the address she had written down. The kind Muggle pointed her in the direction that would lead her to the house she was looking for. She thanked the man, and although her first instinct was to Avada Kedavra him, she reconsidered that action – she didn't want to end up in Azkaban, especially at dangerous times like these – so she left him be.

She quickened her pace and went across several streets until she came to the park right by the street she was looking for. Another louder _pop_ sounded in the park and another hooded figure materialised. This one had a more curvaceous figure than the first woman, who was thin as a stick and whose robes barely hung off her bony shoulders.

"Wait!"

Upon hearing the harsh cry, the first woman spun around and immediately drew out a curious little twig and held it in front of her like a sword, ready to attack the person who dared to interrupt her mission, or to do away with any suspecting Auror. When she saw the other woman, who did not appear to be intimidated by the strange apparatus in the first woman's grip, she sighed.

"Put your wand down, Cissy," the second woman told her lazily.

Narrowing her eyes, the first woman slowly lowered the twig – or rather, the wand – but did not stow it away. The second woman began walking towards her.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" the wand-bearing woman hissed.

"I could ask you the same question, Cissy."

"Go away! I don't want you interfering with my important mission. And don't you dare say that it's not worth doing."

"Cissy – Narcissa – listen to me!"

"I've listened already. I've made my decision. Leave me alone!" the woman named Narcissa snapped.

Once Bella had approached Narcissa, the former grasped the latter by the shoulders and shook her severely, trying to knock some sense into her.

"Cissy, wait! You can't do this! You're my sister – I won't let you! You can't go to him! What would the Dark Lord think of you if He finds out – when He finds out? Everyone knows you can't hide anything from Him. He'll find out sooner or later, and when He does, the consequences will be disastrous. Lucius and Draco will pay the price for your traitorous actions; in other words, they will both be killed, and you will be forced to watch while they are killed!"

"I cannot let this go on, Bella!" Narcissa cried stubbornly. "The Dark Lord is only using Draco as a punishment for Lucius' wrongs! My only son, Bella! I will not let him die! If I am found and branded as a traitor, then so be it. But I will _not_ let my only son die under the hand of the Dark Lord!" She then raised her twig again and brought it down, hard, onto Bella's forearm like a knife, and there was a flash of light. Bella snatched her arm back as if she had been burnt.

Narcissa continued walking down the street as if nothing had happened, and the other woman, Bella, followed at once. Narcissa did not stop until she reached the house with the number 4 on the small metal box by the gate. The front garden was in a very pristine condition, and the lawn had not one single blade of grass out of place.

"So this is number 4, Privet Drive," Narcissa muttered under her breath, a look of utter disgust shown clearly on her shadowed, aristocratic face. "The famous Harry Potter lives in a dump like this? Hah!" She could not understand how those filthy Muggles could stand living in a place like this. But, she supposed, Muggles were Muggles.

"Cissy! What about the wards? The wards Dumbledore put up? You'll set them off!"

"If the intruder has no intention of causing harm to Potter or his family, then the wards will not go off. The magic will let us pass through."

"Cissy, _wait_!"

But Narcissa was not listening. She strode into the driveway and threw back her hood. She was so pale that she seemed to shine in the darkness; the long blonde hair streaming down her back gave her the look of a drowned person. When she reached the door, she knocked one, two, three times and waited anxiously for any sound of movement within the house.

Bella followed her, and lowered her hood more slowly. Dark as her sister was fair, with heavily lidded eyes and a strong jaw, she did not take her gaze off the door as she moved to stand behind Narcissa.

Sure enough, a muffled groan could be heard from within, and after a bit of scuffling, the heavy oak door finally opened to reveal a big, beefy man with a large purple face. He had thick, dark hair, a bushy black moustache, with hardly any neck and small, blue, mean eyes.

"Whaddaya want?" the man grunted, his tiny, watery eyes flickering between the two sisters suspiciously.

Both women were taken aback by the rough, jumbled words – or so they thought – that came from his mouth, but Narcissa quickly collected herself and replied in what she believed to be a kind but brisk voice, "I believe this is the Potter house?"

The man looked alarmed for a second. "Potter? We have no Potters here," he said sharply.

Bella narrowed her eyes; she could tell that he was clearly lying.

"You are telling me that you have never heard of Harry Potter?"

"Dad?" a voice came from behind the man.

Narcissa stood on her toes to see an exact copy of the fat man, except the double had a thick thatch of dark blond hair and looked much, much younger – a teenage boy, perhaps.

As soon as the boy caught sight of the two women, he shrank back behind his father, looking terrified as a rabbit caught in the headlights. Upon noticing a wand poking out of the sleeve of Bella's robe, the boy's eyes widened and he began to move further behind his father.

"Now, now, Dudley," the man reassured his son. He turned back to Narcissa. "Who did you say you are again?"

"I didn't," said Narcissa, flatly. That was all she said.

Clearly, the man was waiting for an answer.

"Who are _you_?" she retorted.

The man's small eyes narrowed even further until they were slits. "I asked you first, lady," he growled.

This time, Bella spoke - for the first time since the man opened the door. "This is getting out of hand! Where is Potter?" she demanded.

The man's jaw dropped. "You want to see Harry?" He couldn't understand why his nephew was so popular with these people – the boy was only a nasty little snot, who couldn't obey anyone to save his life.

Bella decided that this man was not worth her patience. "Yes, we want to see the boy, and we want to see him now!" she snapped.

"Now, don't get smart with me, missy," the man began angrily, pointing a fat finger in her face.

Dudley had obviously sensed that a fight was imminent, and had somehow plucked up the courage to speak up - albeit very quietly. "Dad –"

"Quiet, boy. Ladies, I don't know who you think you are, but you're crazy if you think I'm just going to let you into my hous–"

"Vernon?" another voice called from the hallway, and this time it was a feminine one. "Vernon? Who is it?" From behind Dudley emerged a thin, blonde-haired woman with pale eyes and nearly twice the usual amount of neck. "Who are these people?"

Bella and Narcissa looked at the woman, both clearly irritated. Honestly, how many people were going to interrogate them, for Merlin's sake?

"My name is Narcissa Malfoy, and this is my sister Bellatrix. I would like to see Harry Potter – who I know lives here."

"You want Harry?" The woman's eyes widened with realisation. "You – you're – you're from the – you're those freaks! You're _freaks_! Freaks like my sister was! You have no place here – get out, get out, out, OUT!" She then proceeded to slam the door in Narcissa's surprised face, but then another voice interrupted them.

"Aunt Petunia? What are you doing?"

Everybody froze.

The voice spoke again, this time louder, and closer.

"Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon? Dudley? What's going on?"

The Dursleys quickly moved away – partly in fear of the 'freaks', but also to make way for the owner of the voice to come through.

Narcissa gasped softly when she saw who had spoken; a boy, no older than sixteen, with untidy, jet-black hair - which, she presumed, covered the famed lightning-shaped scar, a result of the failed Killing Curse cast on him by the Dark Lord when he was an infant - and startlingly green, almond-shaped eyes that were framed with round-rimmed glasses. He was small and skinny, with a thin face and knobbly knees - not at all like the other two overweight males he lived with.

Bellatrix just looked at him with contempt.

"_Harry Potter_," Narcissa breathed in wonder.

Harry swore his heart stopped the moment his eyes fell upon the Lady Malfoy and her evil sister. With two renowned Death Eaters turning up at his front door, for all he knew Voldemort could be right behind them, walking up the driveway! He craned his neck to see over Narcissa's shoulder, and to his immense relief, no, Voldemort was _not_ walking up the path. He then turned back to look at Narcissa with some new-found courage.

He noticed the wand in Bellatrix's hand and instinctively reached for his own, but Narcissa put out her hand in an obvious attempt to stop him.

"Potter," she said, calmly. "We have come here in peace."

Harry snorted. "Peace? I don't think either of you have even the slightest idea what 'peace' is, Mrs Malfoy. Death Eaters don't know what 'peace' even means. Don't talk to me about 'peace' if you know what's good for you."

"Please just hear me out, Potter. I have no intention of harming you or your family," she began slowly, as if to reassure him she spoke the truth. "I repeat; my sister and I have come in peace. We have a proposition for you..." At this, she turned to Bellatrix, like she was confirming something. The latter just shrugged.

"Well?" demanded Harry. "You said you wanted to see me; now you are, and I want to know why you are here. Come on, I haven't got all day."

"Cissy," Bellatrix warned, but Narcissa paid her no attention.

"I..." She hesitated a while before replying in a croaking whisper, "I need your help."

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**A/N: I will not be making any changes to the original Prologue, so save the questions. Before you ask, the reason why I didn't just update the original Prologue is because I wanted you guys to have a choice as to which Prologue you think suits the story better. As it is canon at the moment, and Bellatrix died, how do you think Harry will react upon seeing her at his front door? He wouldn't stay for a chat - instead, he'll be attempting to curse her, to hell with the underage magic law. But if you think Harry is OOC, then this rewrite is the one for you.**

**Sorry to those who were expecting a chapter... or maybe, I will give you guys an early update. Would you like that?**

**Remember, you can always check my profile page for notices and other things to stay on track. I update my profile very regularly - sometimes even daily - with notices and stuff to keep you guys up-to-date. If you're wondering why, it's just a really useful way to communicate with everyone without having to PM.**

**If anyone has any story requests, feel free to go onto my profile page and vote on the poll there. I'm open to all story requests, but keep in mind that I will _not_ write M-rated stories. Ever. That's the only thing I will not do...anything else, I'm up for it! :)**

**Now, one more thing before I go... there is somebody I absolutely _must_ acknowledge, and that person is mazariamonti. She is one of the most wonderful people in the world, and any writer would be so lucky to have her - or anybody even remotely like her. I'm so grateful that fate has allowed her to come across my story, to read it, and to take the time to review - and so thoughtfully, too! So thank you very, very much. Honestly, people, I don't know where I would be without her right now - struggling to come up with a suitable reason for a plot twist, perhaps. I definitely owe her one (and two, and three, and four, and so on...)! :)**

**See you next time!**


	3. Chapter One

**A/N: Hey guys! I have decided to post a chapter, because, as I have just uploaded the rewrite of the Prologue, some of you may have expected a new chapter, and I'm feeling guilty for leading you on, so here is Chapter One. I'm still going to post a new chapter on Sunday, as it is my regular uploading day. I'm babbling, aren't I? Sorry. :)**

**Please note that from this chapter onwards, the chapters will be much shorter than the Prologue - I had to cut the Prologue in half, as it was _way_ too long. I have to give you a bit of a warning; Chapters 1-5 are basically summarised versions of the chapters, straight from the book. I know...I lack creativity. Chapter 6 is where things start to get a little different, a little exciting. Sorry about that, if you were hoping for a full-on, outstanding first chapter; I just think it's more appropriate to start off the story the way everyone else knows it, and then have some form of plot twist after the first few chapters.**

**Enjoy! :)**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter One

Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold window-pane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open. The misty fog his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange glare of the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face of all colour so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidy black hair.

The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores and sweet wrappers littered on the floor, a number of spellbooks lay higgeldy-piggeldy among the tangled robes on his bed, and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on his desk.

An alarm clock, repaired by Harry several years ago, ticked loudly on the sill, showing one minute to eleven. Beside it, held in place by Harry's relaxed hand, was a piece of parchment covered in thin, slanting writing. Harry had read this letter so often since its arrival three days ago that, although it had been delivered in a tightly-furled scroll, it now lay quite flat.

_Dear Harry,_

_If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven p.m. to escort you to The Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays._

_If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to The Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you._

_Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday._

_I am, yours most sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Though he already knew it by heart, Harry had been stealing glances at this missive every few minutes, since seven o'clock that evening, when he had first taken up his position beside his bedroom window, which had a reasonable view of both ends of Privet Drive. He knew it was pointless to keep re-reading Dumbledore's words; Harry had sent back his 'yes' with the delivering owl, as requested, and all he could do now was wait; either Dumbledore was going to come, or he was not.

But although he had already agreed to go with Dumbledore, he had not packed. It just seemed too good to be true that he was going to be leaving the Dursleys for The Burrow for the remainder of the holidays. He could not ignore the small voice of reason in his mind that told him something was going to go wrong - his reply to Dumbledore's letter might have gone astray; Dumbledore could be prevented from collecting him; the letter might turn out not to be from Dumbledore at all, but a trick or joke or trap. Harry had not been able to face packing and then being let down and having to unpack again. The only gesture he had made to the possibility of a journey was to shut his snowy owl, Hedwig, safely in her cage.

The minute hand on the alarm clock reached the number twelve, and at that precise moment, the streetlamp outside the window went out.

Harry awoke as though the sudden darkness was an alarm. Hastily straightening his glasses and unsticking his cheek from the glass, he pressed his nose against the window instead and squinted down at the pavement. A tall figure in a long, billowing cloak was walking up the garden path.

Harry jumped up as though he had received an electric shock, knocked over his chair, and started snatching anything and everything within reach from the floor and throwing it into his trunk. Even as he lobbed a set of robes, two spellbooks and a packet of crisps across the room, the doorbell rang.

Downstairs in the living room, his Uncle Vernon shouted, "Who in the blazes is calling at this time of night?"

Harry froze with a brass telescope in one hand and a pair of trainers in the other; he had completely forgotten to warn the Dursleys that Dumbledore might be coming. Feeling both panicky and close to laughter, he clambered over the trunk and wrenched open his bedroom door in time to hear a deep voice to say, "Good evening. You must be Mr Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"

* * *

It took Harry a little over ten minutes to track down everything he needed for Hogwarts; at last, he had managed to get his Invisibility Cloak from under the bed, screwed the top back on his jar of Colour-Change Ink and forced the lid of his trunk shut on his cauldron. Then, heaving his trunk in one hand and holding Hedwig's cage in the other, he made his way back downstairs to the living room, where Dumbledore was waiting for him.

Harry did not dare look at the Dursleys as he said, "Professor - I'm ready now."

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Time for us to be off, then." Dumbledore stood up and straightened his long black cloak. "Until we meet again," he said to the Dursleys, who looked as though that moment could wait forever as far as they were concerned, and after doffing his hat, he swept from the room.

"Bye," Harry said hastily to the Dursleys, and followed Dumbledore, who paused beside Harry's trunk, upon which Hedwig's cage was perched.

"We do not want to be encumbered by these at the moment," he said, pulling out his wand. "I shall send them to The Burrow to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak...just in case."

Harry extracted his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk with some difficulty, trying not to show Dumbledore the mess within. When he had stuffed it into an inside pocket of his jacket, Dumbledore waved his wand and the trunk, cage and Hedwig vanished. As he replaced his wand in his pocket, Harry saw that his hand was blackened and shrivelled; it looked as though his flesh had been burned away.

"Sir - what happened to your -?"

"Later, Harry," said Dumbledore. He stepped forward and turned the knob on the front door, which opened onto cool, misty darkness.

"And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

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**A/N: Extremely short, and straight from the book, I know. :P **

**I do promise, though, that it will get exciting after a couple more chapters (precisely, in Chapter Six).**

**You know what? From now on, I'm going to start the random question thing for the reviews. I'll do it every time I upload a new chapter - _if_ I remember, LOL. Here's the question for this chapter:  
**

_**What is your favourite pairing in the Harry Potter fandom, and why?**_


	4. Chapter Two

**A/N: Hello, everybody! How are you all? **

**I need to thank all you fanfictioners who have taken the time to read and either review, follow or favourite the story - it really means a lot to me, guys, so thank you so much. There's one other special person whom I must thank, and that is my fellow friend and editor, Cindelina. Honestly, I don't know how she puts up with me and with all of my nonsense. :)**

**Here is Chapter Two. Remember that Chapters 1-5 are fairly short, straighforward, and from the book. The reason being...well...I just think it's better to start off the story nice and easy, slow and steady, the way everybody else knows it so that when the plot twist comes around the corner, it will feel more natural but at the same time quite surprising. Chapters 1-5 are basically straight from the book - not necessarily word-for-word, as I did summarise many things because I didn't want to copy ten whole chapters from the book as that would be very boring. Some of these chapters will be extremely short, too - this one in particular. Chapter Six will definitely differentiate from the book, though, I can promise you that.**

**Thank you all very much; you don't know how much it means to me to have such eager readers like you who are willing to read the chapters no matter what (okay, I'm exaggerating, but still) - it really makes my day.**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Two

Despite the fact that he had spent every waking moment of the past few days hoping desperately that Dumbledore would indeed come to fetch him, Harry felt distinctly awkward as they set off down Privet Drive together. He had never had a proper conversation with his Headmaster outside of Hogwarts before; there was usually a desk between them. The memory of their last face-to-face encounter kept intruding, too, and it rather heightened Harry's sense of embarrassment; he had shouted a lot on that occasion, not to mention doing his best to smash several of Dumbledore's most prized possessions.

Dumbledore, however, seemed completely relaxed. "Keep your wand at the ready, Harry," he said brightly.

"But I thought I'm not allowed to use magic outside school, sir?"

"If there is an attack," said Dumbledore, "I give you permission to use any counter-jinx or -curse that might occur to you. However, I do not think you need to worry about being attacked tonight."

"Why not, sir?"

"You are with me," Dumbledore stated simply. "This will do, Harry."

He came to an abrupt halt at the end of Privet Drive. "You have not, of course, passed your Apparition test?" he asked.

"No," said Harry. "I thought you had to be seventeen?"

"You do," said Dumbledore. "So you will need to hold onto my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind - as you have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment.

Harry gripped Dumbledore's proffered arm.

"Very good," said Dumbledore. "Well, here we go."

Harry felt Dumbledore's arm twist away from him and he redoubled his grip; the next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull, and then -

He gulped great lungfuls of cold night air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. A few seconds had passed before he realised that Privet Drive had vanished. He and Dumbledore were now standing in what appeared to be a deserted village square, in the centre of which stood an old war memorial and a few benches. His comprehension catching up with his senses, Harry realised that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.

* * *

It turned out that Dumbledore had needed Harry's help to persuade an old colleague of his to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts as a professor. The former teacher was Horace Slughorn, who had been on the move from the Death Eaters for a year.

He had claimed that Harry's mother, Lily Evans, had been one of his favourite students of all time - which lead to a conversation on Muggle-borns. Slughorn boasted about his connections to famous and influential people like Dirk Cresswell, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, and Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the _Daily Prophet_, and Ambrosius Flume, of Honeydukes, and Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Slughorn had also unintentionally brought up the subject of Sirius Black's death, throwing his name out casually in their conversation - effectively ruining Harry's mood for the rest of the night.

In the end, Harry and Dumbledore had managed to convince Slughorn to reclaim his job as a professor at Hogwarts. As the two of them set off back down the hill through the dark and swirling mist, Dumbledore looked to Harry and said, "Well done, Harry."

"I didn't do anything," Harry said, in surprise.

"Oh yes you did. You showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you like him?"

"Er…"

Harry wasn't sure whether he like Slughorn or not. He supposed he had been pleasant in his way, but he had also seemed vain and, whatever he said to the contrary, much too surprised that a Muggle-born should make a good witch.

"Horace," said Dumbledore, relieving Harry of the responsibility to say any of this," likes his comfort. He also likes the company of the famous, the successful and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the back seat - more room to spread out, you see. He used to handpick favourites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favourites with himself at the centre, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members, and also reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his favourite crystallised pineapple, or the chance to recommend the next junior member of the Goblin Liaison Office."

Harry had a sudden and vivid mental image of a great swollen spider, spinning a web around him, twitching a thread here and there to bring its large and juicy flies a little closer.

"I tell you all this," Dumbledore continued, "not to turn you against Horace - or, as we must now call him, Professor Slughorn - how to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you, Harry. You would be the jewel of the collection: the Boy Who Lived...or, as they call you nowadays, the Chosen One."

At these words, a chill that had nothing to do with the surrounding mist stole over Harry. He was reminded of words he had heard a few weeks ago, words that had a horrible and particular meaning to him:

_Neither can live while the other survives…_

He was also reminded of the Unbreakable Vow he had been pressured into making with Narcissa, and of the fact that he was now on both sides of the war - helping the Malfoys, who were Death Eaters, and being Harry Potter, the hero of the Light.

Dumbledore had stopped walking, level with the church they had passed earlier.

"This will do, Harry. If you will grasp my arm."

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**A/N: How did y'all like that? I know, I know; it's boring, short, and straight from the book. Even if you're thinking that this story is terrible and I should be ashamed to even admit that I wrote it, I'd still like you to share your thoughts with me in a review or PM. :)**

**Here is today's question:**

_**What was the last movie you saw, and what did you think of it?**_


	5. Chapter Three

**A/N: Hey guys! How are y'all?**

**Today's Author's Note is very, very, _very_ long indeed, so be prepared to read it...**

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**I am overwhelmed with the amount of responses, favourites, follows, reviews, and PMs regarding _Failure Is An Option_. Thank you guys so much for all your help and support; I honestly don't know how I would survive without you all!**

**Since it's the holidays, I have decided that I will update the story twice a week until the next school term begins - which will be in three weeks' time. That means six updates in three weeks. Aren't you guys excited? 'Cause I am! Okay, so this is the schedule:**

**Today: _Chapter 3_**  
** Sunday 20th April: _Chapter 4_**  
** Wednesday 23rd April: _Chapter 5_**  
** Saturday 26th April: _Chapter 6_**  
** Wednesday 30th April: _Chapter 7_**  
** Sunday 3rd May: _Chapter 8_**

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**Now, I have a very, very big warning for you all. If you haven't read it already, i have posted a notice on my profile page on Monday, alerting you all of what's called the Heartbleed Bug. Here is my message:**

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**THIS IS A MESSAGE FOR EVERYBODY WHO'S READING. THIS IS A WARNING.**

**I'm sure you've all heard of the Heartbleed Bug that's been going around since 2011. Well, apparently it's attacking all the companies and big sites - and I've subscribed to FictionPress, and they say that we should change our passwords. I have received emails from FictionPress, FanFiction, Prezi, Skype, Google, and multiple 'Breaking News' articles BBC, and they all warn us of this bug and tell us to change whatever passwords we can online. The Heartbleed Bug is sending shockwaves throughout the Internet right now and potentially leaves unimaginable amounts of private data exposed to hackers who take advantage of the flaw in the OpenSSL encryption software used by some of the world's most popular websitets. Considering that the flaw can expose a range of sensitive data - including usernames, passwords, emails, instant messages, credit card numbers, and more - it's imperative that you do what you can to minimise the damage. Sites like Google, Yahoo, Facebook, Twitter, Gmail, Paypal, Pinterest, Amazon, eBay, Instagram, Tumblr, Yahoo Mail, Baidu, Hotmail, GoDaddy, Dropbox, Minecraft, OkCupid, LinkedIn, ThePirateBay, Mediafire and many, many more have all been allegedly affected, so watch out and stay on guard if you are associated with any of these - and others, too. It scares me to think about how easily those people can hack into our systems.**

**This may not be the happy, sunshine and rainbows message you might have been expecting, but I wanted to make sure you are all aware of this. The Heartbleed Bug is extremely dangerous, so remember not to reveal any personal information while online. And do change your passwords if possible - I might sound like a crazy maniac, but safety does come first**

**Stay safe, everybody.**  
**RosiePosieRW**

* * *

**Moving onto happier news. We're halfway there to the plot twist (gasp)! This chapter is quite short as well, so keep that in mind before you decide to explode in anger right in front of me. I'm joking...but hey, that might actually happen!**

**A huge thanks to my beta, Cindelina, for all her hard work (haha, not really). Thanks, darling, I really appreciate your effort. :)**

**I apologise for the extremely long Author's Note - I felt that you all needed to be aware of the Heartbleed Bug.  
**

**Enjoy.**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Three

Braced and prepared this time, Harry was ready for the Apparition, but still found it unpleasant. When the pressure disappeared and he found himself able to breathe again, he was standing in a country lane beside Dumbledore and looking ahead to the crooked silhouette of his second favourite building in the world: The Burrow. In spite of the feeling of dread that had just swept through him, his spirits could not help but lift at the sight of it. Ron was in there...and so was Mrs Weasley, who could cook better than anyone he knew.

"If you don't mind, Harry," said Dumbledore, as they passed through the gate, "I'd like a few words with you before we part. In private. Perhaps in here?"

Dumbledore pointed towards a run-down stone outhouse where the Weasleys kept their broomsticks. A little puzzled, Harry followed Dumbledore through the creaking door into a space smaller than the average cupboard. Dumbledore illuminated the tip of his wand, so that it glowed like a torch and smiled down at Harry.

"Now, Harry, I would like you to know that it is my wish that you take on private lessons with me this year."

"Private - with you?" said Harry, surprised.

"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education."

"What will you be teaching me, sir?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," said Dumbledore airily.

Harry waited hopefully, but Dumbledore did not elaborate, so he asked something that had been bothering him slightly. "If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?"

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry - and no, you will not."

"Good," said Harry in relief, "because they were a -" He stopped, careful not to say what he really thought.

"I think the word 'fiasco' would be a good one here," said Dumbledore, nodding.

Harry laughed.

"Well, that means I won't see much of Professor Snape from now on," he said, "because he won't let me carry on Potions unless I get 'Outstanding' in my O.W.L., which I know I haven't."

"Don't count your owls before they are delivered," said Dumbledore gravely. "Which, now I think of it, ought to be sometime later today. Now, two more things, Harry, before we part.

"Firstly, I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onwards. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?"

Harry nodded.

"And lastly, while you stay here, The Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly - all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry, before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them."

"I understand," Harry said quickly.

"Very well, then," said Dumbledore, pushing open the broom-shed door and stepping out into the yard. "I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are."

* * *

Inside the living room of The Burrow, an owl hooted.

"Hedwig!" said Ginny in surprise, and hurried to the stairs. "Mum!"

Mrs Weasley hastened to the balcony over the stairs. "Ginny? What is it?"

"I was only wondering when Harry got here."

"What?" Mrs Weasley looked confused. "Harry? Harry who?"

"Harry Potter, of course," said Ginny, stating the obvious.

"I think I'd know if Harry Potter was in my house, wouldn't I?" said Mrs Weasley, descending the stairs.

"His trunk's in the kitchen, and his owl," Ginny pressed.

"But no, dear, I seriously doubt that."

At that moment, Hedwig screeched again. There were sounds of heavy footsteps from upstairs, and Ron's head appeared above the stairs to the attic.

"Harry? Did someone say Harry?" Ron demanded as Mrs Weasley looked up at him.

Ginny snorted. "Me, nosy. Is he up there with you?"

"Of course not!" Ron said, indignantly. "I think I'd know if my best friend was in my room, wouldn't I?"

There were more footsteps, and Ginny watched as Hermione Granger approached the handrail of the set of stairs below Ron.

"Was that an owl I heard?" Hermione inquired.

"You haven't seen him, have you? Apparently he's wandering about the house."

"Really?"

"Really?" said a second voice - a male, this time.

"Harry!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed.

Ginny immediately turned and ran back into the living room and saw Harry Potter standing in the centre of the room. As they embraced each other in greeting, they could hear the others clambering down the stairs.

Hermione and Ron rushed up to Harry and shared a group hug.

"What a lovely surprise," cried a delighted Mrs Weasley, who pushed through the 'crowd' to get her own hug from Harry. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" she asked, patting his face.

"I didn't know. Dumbledore," Harry told her, as if that would explain everything - and it did.

"Oh, that man!" Mrs Weasley threw her hands up in the air, smiling broadly. "But what would we do without him?"

* * *

**A/N: It's very short, I know. But we're getting there. No flames please, but do review if you have the time!**

**And as for poll results...Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger is still in the lead! Unsurprisingly. Hehe. Keep the votes rolling in, guys. For those of you who do not know about the poll, it is a means of receiving story requests from you guys. The poll is on my profile page, so please vote if you have any story requests from any fandom! If the pairing you requested is not there on the list, you can still vote, but just PM me your request so I can add it to the list.**

**Today's random review question is... (duh duh duh!)**

**_Do you sleep with your closet doors open or shut? _**

**Just a little note - no, I am NOT trying to stalk you; I am merely asking a random question, and this one popped into my head so I wrote it down. :P :)**


	6. Chapter Four

**A/N: Not much to say...other than stating the obvious: here is the next chapter. :)**

**Thank you very much, Cindelina. Your effort is highly appreciated.**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Four

"So, when did you get here?' Harry asked. He, Ron and Hermione were all seated around the coffee table.

"A few days ago," Hermione told him, "though for a while, I wasn't sure I _was_ coming."

Behind them, her fluffy, ginger, flat-faced cat Crookshanks meowed and jumped off the balcony outside.

"Mum...sort of lost it last week," said Ron. "Said Ginny and I had no business going back to Hogwarts. That it's too dangerous."

"Oh, come on!" said Harry, sure that Mrs Weasley was off her rocker.

"She isn't alone," Hermione told him sternly. "Even my parents, they're Muggles, they know something bad's happening."

Ron sighed. "Anyway, Dad stepped in, told her she was being barmy, and...took a few days, but she came around."

There was a short, tense silence.

Harry broke it. "But...this is _Hogwarts_ we're talking about, it's _Dumbledore_ - what could be safer?"

"There's been a lot of talk recently that Dumbledore's gotten a bit old," Hermione said hesitantly, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"Oh, rubbish! He's only...what is he?"

"A hundred and fifty? Give or take a few years? " Ron suggested, and they all ended up laughing.

* * *

Harry remained within the confines of The Burrow's garden over the next few weeks. He spent most of his days playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys' orchard (he and Hermione against Ron and Ginny; Hermione was dreadful and Ginny good, so they were reasonably well-matched) and his evenings eating triple helpings of everything Mrs Weasley put in front of him.

It would have been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stories of disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the _Prophet_. Sometimes Bill and Mr Weasley brought home news before it even reached the paper. To Mrs Weasley's displeasure, Harry's sixteenth birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with grey, his clothes more ragged and patched than eve.

"There have been another couple of Dementor attacks," he announced, as Mrs Weasley passed him a large slice of birthday cake. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it - well, frankly, I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius's brother Regulus only managed a few days as far as I can remember."

"Yes, well," said Mrs Weasley, frowning, "Perhaps we should talk about something diff-"

"Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?" asked Bill, who was being plied with wine by Fleur. "The man who ran -"

"- the ice cream place in Diagon Alley?" Harry interrupted with an unpleasant, hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach. "He used to give me free ice creams. What's happened to him?"

"Dragged off, by the look of his place."

"Why?" asked Ron, while Mrs Weasley pointedly glared at Bill.

"Talking of Diagon Alley," said Mr Weasley, "looks like Ollivander's gone too."

"The wand-maker?" said Ginny, looking startled.

"That's the one. Shop's empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he left voluntarily or was kidnapped."

"But wands - what'll people do for wands?"

"They'll have to make do with other makers," said Lupin. "But Ollivander was the best, and if the other side have got him it's not so good for us."

* * *

The day after this rather gloomy birthday tea, their letters and book lists arrived from Hogwarts. Harry's included a surprise; he had been made Quidditch Captain.

"That gives you equal status with prefects!" cried Hermione Happily. "You can use our special bathroom now, and everything!"

"Wow, I remember when Charlie wore one of these," said Ron, examining the badge with glee. "Harry, this is so cool, you're my captain - if you let me back on the team, I suppose, ha ha…"

"Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now that you've got these," sighed Mrs Weasley, looking down on Ron's book list. "We'll go on Saturday as long as your father doesn't have to go into work again. I'm not going there without him."

"Mum, d'you honestly think You-Know-Who's going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?" sniggered Ron.

"Fortescue and Ollivander went on holiday, did they?" said Mrs Weasley, firing up at once. "If you think security's a laughing matter you can stay behind and I'll get your things myself -"

"No, I wanna come, I want to see Fred and George's shop!" said Ron hastily.

"Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you're too immature to come with us!" said Mrs Weasley angrily, snatching up her clock, all nine hands of which were still pointing at _mortal peril_, and balancing it on top of a pile of just-laundered towels. "And that goes for returning to Hogwarts, as well!"

Ron turned to stare incredulously at Harry as his mother hoisted the laundry basket and the teetering clock into her arms and stormed out of the room.

"Blimey...you can't even make a joke round here anymore…"

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**A/N: As you may have realised by now, some of this is dialogue from the movie, as well. :P**

**Again, I apologise for the sheer shortness of this chapter and for others to come. I have done a word count, and apparently, this chapter is the shortest I've written so far. :(**

**Random review question for the day:**

**Sorry, there isn't one. Instead, I have a challenge. What is it, you ask?**

**I want somebody to come up with a pun, so all you Pun Kings and Pun Queens out there, this is the challenge for you! I'd like you to come up with a pun to fit the theme 'supernatural'. And it needs to be like a title. Why can't I just call it 'Supernatural', you ask? Well, because ****people will think instantly of the TV show. I can't call it 'Paranormal' either, because that's just weird, and besides, it makes me think of paranormal activity. Any thoughts/ideas, anybody?**

**The winner of the 'Pun Challenge', as I'm now calling it, will be announced on Sunday 4th May, when I publish Chapter 8 of this story, so you will have a few weeks to submit it to me. You can either post it as a review, or you can PM me. Either way is fine. ****The winner will have 3 of their stories reviewed by me. ****:)**


	7. Chapter Five

**A/N: Hello everyone! How are you all?**

**Sorry for the delay; I was going to update this story ten hours ago, but I had other pressing matters to attend to - matters that were so important that I'm lucky to even get a chance to open my laptop at all!**

**Now, I have had somebody tell me that there is no way Harry would just stand there and chat to Narcissa and Bellatrix, especially after Bellatrix killed Sirius - instead, he would try to hex them, to hell with the underage magic law. My point is, that's the whole reason why I wrote two Prologues in the first place. If you would rather Harry be all violent like he is in the first Prologue, then fine. If you think he has enough self-control, then the re-write of the Prologue is the one for you. There will always be people regarding Harry as OOC in the Prologues, no matter what I do. So I'm sorry if I've disappointed you, but I'm not going to go back and write a third Prologue just for the sake of trying to suit this story to everybody. It's impossible to try and please everyone - every writer knows that.**

**I'd like to thank Cindelina for everything. It's the holidays; everyone's busy, and there isn't much time to do anything. On the other hand, there is nothing to do. I know for a fact that my dear friend doesn't have much time to spare, and she _still_ manages to beta all my work. So thank you so much, Cindelina, I don't know what I would do without you.**

**Please do enjoy this chapter, and tell me what you think!**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Five

It was an overcast, murky day. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars, in which Harry had ridden once before, was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house, pulling on their cloaks.

"It's good Dad can get us these again," said Ron appreciatively, stretching luxuriously as the car moved smoothly away from the Burrow, Bill and Fleur waving from the kitchen window. He, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were all sitting in roomy comfort in the wide back seat.

"Don't get used to it, it's only because of Harry," said Mr Weasley over his shoulder. He and Mrs Weasley were in front with the Ministry driver; the front passenger seat had obligingly stretched into what resembled a two-seater sofa. "He's been given top-grade security status. And we'll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron, too."

Harry said nothing; he did not much fancy doing his shopping while surrounded by a battalion of Aurors. He had stowed his Invisibility Cloak in his backpack and felt that, if that was good enough for Dumbledore, it ought to be good enough for the Ministry, though now he came to think of it, he was not sure the Ministry knew about his Cloak.

"Here you are, then," said the driver a surprisingly short while later, speaking for the first time since he slowed in Charing Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. "I'm to wait for you, any idea how long you'll be?"

"A couple of hours, I expect", said Mr Weasley. "Ah, good, he's here!"

Harry imitated Mr Weasley and peered through the window; his heart leapt. There were no Aurors waiting outside the inn, but instead the gigantic, black-bearded form of Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, wearing a long beaverskin coat, beaming at the sight of Harry's face and oblivious to the startled stares of passing Muggles.

"Harry!" he boomed, sweeping Harry into a bone-crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of the car. "Buckbeak - Witherwings, I mean - yeh should see him, Harry, he's so happy ter be back in the open air -"

"Glad he's pleased," said Harry, grinning as he massaged his ribs. "We didn't know 'security' meant you!"

"I know, jus' like old times, innit? See, the Ministry wanted ter send a bunch o' Aurors, but Dumbledore said I'd do," said Hagrid proudly, throwing out his chest and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. "Let's get goin', then - after yeh, Molly, Arthur -"

The Leaky Cauldron was, for the first time in Harry's memory, completely empty. Only Tom the landlord, wizened and toothless, remained of the old crowd. He looked up hopefully as they entered, but before he could speak, Hagrid said importantly, "Jus' passin' through today, Tom, sure yeh understand. Hogwarts business, yeh know."

Tom nodded gloomily and returned to wiping glasses; Harry, Hermione, Hagrid and the Weasleys walked through the bar and out into the chilly little courtyard at the back where the dustbins stood. Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and rapped a certain brick in the wall, which opened at once to form an archway onto a winding cobbled street.

They stepped through the entrance and paused, looking around.

Diagon Alley had changed. The colourful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these sombre purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up about the street.

Mr and Mrs Weasley had agreed to let Harry, Ron and Hermione to go with Hagrid to Madam Malkin's to buy new robes while they hurried off with Ginny to Flourish and Blotts to get everyone's school books.

Harry noticed that many of the people who passed them had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs Weasley, and that nobody was stopping to talk anymore; the shoppers stayed together in their own tightly-knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody seemed to be shopping alone.

"Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there for all o' us," said Hagrid, stopping outside Madam Malkin's and bending down to peer through the window. "I'll stand guard outside, all righ'?"

So Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the little shop together. It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them that they heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes in spangled green and blue.

"...not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."

There was a clucking noise and a voice Harry recognised as that of Madam Malkin said, "Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child -"

"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!"

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**A/N: Too short for anybody's liking, I know; I cut the chapter in a weird place. But still...I'm saving some of it for the next chapter. As you can probably tell, the plot twist is going to occur in Madam Malkin's shop. For all you less bright people out there (I'm kidding) who haven't yet figured it out, well, I've just told you, haven't I? It isn't exactly going to be a _plot twist_ as such, but merely an occurrence that differentiates slightly from the dialogue in the book - but Harry and co. are still going to follow the same routine in Diagon Alley.**

**Now, ****has anybody come up with a suitable pun yet? If you don't know about it, here is the information:**

**I want somebody to come up with a pun, so all you Pun Kings and Pun Queens out there, this is the challenge for you! I'd like you to come up with a pun to fit the theme 'supernatural'. And it needs to be like a title. Why can't I just call it 'Supernatural', you ask? Well, because ****people will think instantly of the TV show. I can't call it 'Paranormal' either, because that's just weird, and besides, it makes me think of paranormal activity. Any thoughts/ideas, anybody?**

**The winner of the 'Pun Challenge', as I'm now calling it, will be announced on Sunday 4th May, when I publish Chapter 8 of this story, so you will have two weeks. You can either post it as a review here, or you can PM me. Either way is fine. ****The winner will have 3 of their stories reviewed by me. ****:)**

**Random review question (RRQ?):**

_**Have you ever called a random stranger "Mum" or "Dad" or anything else of the like by accident? What was the situation? Tell me all about it...**_

**Remember, the next chapter contains the plot twist! But please don't expect anything mind-blowing, because I can tell you right here and now that if you do, you'll be sorely disappointed.**

**I apologise for the extremely long Author's Notes I have been writing lately; I don't think anyone ever reads them, but there here because there are things I would like you to know. I promise to shorten down my messages sometime in the future, in later chapters. :)**

**Once again, I'm sorry for updating so late. I know it's very, very late for some parts of the world - for example, all over America. My world clock reads the horrific time of twenty-five minutes past three o'clock a.m. in Chicago. Now, I must retire for the night as it is, too, quite late here in Auckland - eight twenty-five p.m., to be precise!**

**Bonne nuit, mes amis!**


	8. Chapter Six

**A/N: Hey everyone! How have you all been?**

**So, this is the chapter you've all been waiting for...not really. The only thing that's minutely different in this chapter is the fact that Ron is the idiot here who's trying to curse Draco, and Narcissa and Harry are on relatively friendly speaking terms, and although Draco is his usual bully self, he doesn't taunt Harry either. It isn't all that exciting; I was exaggerating so that I could get more readers. Am I joking, you ask? Well, I'll direct that question back to you; _am_ I really joking?**

**********Thank you, Cindelina; I don't know what I would do without you.**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Six

A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glimmered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione reflected over his shoulder. His light grey eyes narrowed.

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," said Draco Malfoy.

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes and holding a tape measure and a wand. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" she added hastily, for a glance towards the door had shown her Harry and Ron both standing there, the latter's wand out and pointing at Malfoy.

"No, don't Ron, honestly, it's not worth it..."

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," sneered Malfoy.  
"Ron, they're right," said Harry.

"What? You're both siding with Malfoy?" Ron looked between Harry and Hermione in disbelief, but he lowered his wand.

"Maybe Potter and Granger have finally seen sense and realised that you'll always be the Weasel King, the poorest of the poor," taunted Malfoy.

"That's quite enough!" said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. "Madam - please -"

Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack. "Put that away," she said coldly to Ron. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" said Ron, taking a step forward and gazing into the smoothly arrogant face that, for all its pallor, still resembled her sister's. He was taller than she was now. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart. "Really, you shouldn't accuse - dangerous thing to say - put your wand away, please!"

But Ron did not lower his wand. He looked to Harry and Hermione for assistance, but all they did was shake their heads.

Narcissa Malfoy smiled unpleasantly. "I see that being Harry Potter's best friend has given you a false sense of security, Ronald Weasley. But your friends won't always be there for you, as you have just seen."

Ron stared at his two best friends. "What's wrong with you two?" he demanded. "Aren't you guys going to help me hex Malfoy into oblivion?"

"Ron, I don't think that's a good idea," said Harry, and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Then I'll do it myself!" Ron raised his wand and pointed it directly at Malfoy. "_Stup_-"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Ron's wand flew out of his grip and over to Narcissa, who pocketed it. "You'll not have your wand back until I leave this shop. How dare you try and stun my son in my presence?"

"It's not my fault you and your family are stuck-up pure-bloods. Not to mention Death Eaters, too. Who knows, maybe I'll turn you in and they might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband, if you're lucky! Then you'll all be poor!"

Malfoy made an angry movement towards Harry, but stumbled over his overlong robe. Ron laughed loudly.

"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Weasley!" Malfoy snarled.

"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. "I expect Weasley's family will become penniless long before we do."

There was a momentary silence, in which Madam Malkin seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that it wouldn't. She bent towards Malfoy, who was still glaring at Ron.

"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just -"

"Ouch!" bellowed Malfoy, slapping her hand away, "watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother - I don't think I want these anymore -"

He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Hermione, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here...we'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's."

And with that, the pair of them strode out of the shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into Ron on the way out.

"Well, _really_!" said Madam Malkin, snatching up the fallen robes and moving the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed the dust.

Narcissa popped her head round the door. "Potter, a word with you if you please." She then retreated.

Harry looked at Hermione, who shrugged, and Ron, who was still fuming over his humiliation and the loss of his wand, and he stepped out the door after Narcissa.

He saw Malfoy wandering not far off from where they were.

"Yes?" he said, waiting for Narcissa to speak.

Narcissa glanced around, making sure that no-one was within earshot before saying, "You've done well, Potter. I trust you haven't told anybody about...well, you-know-what?"

"Of course not," said Harry, hastily. "No-one needs to know."

"Good."

There was a short pause.

"Well, Draco and I will be heading to Twilfitt and Tatting's to buy him some new robes, and then we're going elsewhere to look for other...supplies," Narcissa told Harry quietly. Harry had the impression that she was choosing her words carefully. "Make sure nobody sees us." She reached inside her pocket and pulled out Ron's wand, which she handed to Harry. "Here is Weasley's wand. And please," added Narcissa, glaring scornfully at Ron through the shop window, "do tell your friend to refrain from attacking my son in the future. If I hear of any harm being done to my son, the Vow may be evoked and there will be consequences."

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**A/N: I can tell instantly that you are disappointed with me. But I'd still like you to review. *hint hint* :)**

**Also, I have been told that I have made an error in the whereabouts of the Dursleys' home in the Prologue. Number 4, Privet Drive is in Little Whinging, Surrey, not in London. I am terribly sorry for this mistake, and I have to thank another reviewer, Teufel1987. I have fixed the mistake.**

**Now, has anybody come up with a suitable pun yet? If you don't know about it, here is the information:**

**I want somebody to come up with a pun, so all you Pun Kings and Pun Queens out there, this is the challenge for you! I'd like you to come up with a pun to fit the theme 'supernatural'. And it needs to be like a title. Why can't I just call it 'Supernatural', you ask? Well, because ****people will think instantly of the TV show. I can't call it 'Paranormal' either, because that's just weird, and besides, it makes me think of paranormal activity. Any thoughts/ideas, anybody?**

**The winner of the 'Pun Challenge', as I'm now calling it, will be announced on Sunday 4th May, when I publish Chapter 8 of this story, so you will have a few weeks to submit it to me. You can either post it as a review, or you can PM me. Either way is fine. ****The winner will have 3 of their stories reviewed by me. ****:)**

******Random Review Question (that's what I'm calling this from now on):**

_******For what in your life do you feel most grateful?**_


	9. Chapter Seven

**A/N: Hello everybody! How are you all?**

**I have a few shout-outs today. Firstly, TrisanaChandler13, to whom the award for most reviews definitely goes to! And I must thank my fellow reviewer, cellester, who has noticed a mistake in my writing and has kindly informed me of it in a review. I'm really sorry if there are any errors in upcoming chapters; please let me know if I've done something stupid again!**

**I have considered a Harry/Bellatrix or Harry/Narcissa pairing as many readers have asked if I will write one or not, and I'm thinking it will be fairly easy to incorporate either one of those into the story. Maybe a chapter or two hinting at it, later on in the story. I'll keep that in mind. Haha, imagine Draco's reaction when he finds out his mother fancies Harry Potter. Totally priceless, won't you agree? :D**

**Here is Chapter Seven. Again, this one is mainly a summary of what goes on in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and nothing interesting happens here. I may post another (short) chapter later today to make up for the lack of action in this fic.**

** Please do point out any mistakes you see here in your review - though I'm hoping there are none, haha!**

**And many thanks to my beta, Cindelina. You are a valuable asset to me. :)**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Seven

"Everyone all right?" said Mrs Weasley. "Got your robes? Right then, we can pop in at the apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George's - stick close, now..."

Neither Harry nor Ron bought any ingredients at the apothecary, seeing as they were no longer studying Potions, but both bought large boxes of owl nuts for Hedwig and Pigwidgeon at Eeylops Owl Emporium. Then, with Mrs Weasley checking her watch every minute or so, they headed further along the street in search of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George.

"We really haven't got too long," Mrs Weasley said. "So we'll just have a quick look around and then back to the car. We must be close, that's number ninety-two...ninety-four..."

"_Whoa_," said Ron, stopping in his tracks.

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, Fred and George's windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passers-by were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced and shrieked; Harry's eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?  
You SHOULD Be Worrying About  
U-NO-POO -  
the Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!

Harry started to laugh. He heard a weak sort of moan beside him and looked round to see Mrs Weasley gazing, dumbfounded at the poster. Her lips moved, silently mouthing the name, 'U-No-Poo.'

"They'll be murdered in their beds!" she whispered.

"No they won't!" said Ron, who like Harry was laughing. "This is brilliant!"

And he and Harry led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; Harry could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts. Harry noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was the most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of pants when waved; the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck. boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd and Harry pushed his way towards the counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: Reusable Hangman - Spell It Or He'll Swing!

Everyone, including a reluctant Mrs Weasley, were highly impressed with the vast range of products the Weasley twins managed to invent: from Anti-Gravity Hats and Portable Swamps to Nose Biting Teacups to Fanged Frisbees to Sticky Trainers. There was even a huge crate full of Fred and George's first creation, the Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs, which seemed to gather a fairly large crowd.

Harry met Fred near the large display for the Patented Daydream Charms, which gave highly realistic, virtually undetectable thirty-minute daydreams, and the red-haired owner led him through to the back of the shop, where George joined them. The Weasley twins began giving Harry a tour of their spectacular shop, pointing out various noteworthy inventions such as the Decoy Detonators, Edible Dark Marks, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and Shield Hats, Cloaks and Gloves used by the Ministry for Magic for defense against enemy forces, using a Shield Charm. They found Hermione and Ginny mooning over Fred and George's WonderWitch products, including Love Potions, Ten-Second Pimple Vanishers and Pygmy Puffs, which were miniature puffskeins with pink or purple fur and small, beady eyes and ears. As they were discussing Ginny's apparent love life, Ron appeared at George's elbow, his arms laden with merchandise.

"That's three Galleons, nine Sickles and a Knut," said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron's arms. "Cough up."

"I'm your brother!"

"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."

"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!"

"You'd better put it back, then, and mind you put it on the right shelves."

Ron dropped several boxes, swore and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Mrs Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear.

"If I see you do that again I'll jinx your fingers together," she said sharply.

"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" asked Ginny at once.

"A what?" said Mrs Weasley warily.

"Look, they're so sweet…"

As Mrs Weasley moved aside to look at the Pygmy Puffs, Ron looked out of the window and frowned. "Harry?" said Ron. "Is it just me, or do Draco and mummy look like two people who don't want to be followed?"

Harry and Hermione went up beside him. They saw Malfoy and Narcissa looking very suspicious as they hurried up the street and turned the corner. Harry remembered the Malfoy matriarch telling him that she and Draco would be 'going elsewhere to look for other supplies'. He was sure she wanted him to follow them, or she wouldn't have told him. He glanced around; Mrs Weasley and Ginny were bending over the Pygmy Puffs. Mr Weasley was delightedly examining a pack of Muggle marked playing cards. Fred and George were both helping customers. On the other side of the glass, Hagrid was standing with his back to them, looking up and down the street.

Harry made sure that nobody was watching them before he whipped out his Invisibility Cloak. "Get under here, quick!" he told Ron and Hermione.

"Oh - I don't know, Harry," said Hermione, looking uncertainly towards Mrs Weasley.

"Come _on_!" said Ron.

She hesitated for a moment longer, then ducked under the Cloak with Harry and Ron. Nobody noticed them vanish; they were all too interested in Fred and George's products. Harry, Ron and Hermione squeezed their way out of the door as quickly as they could, but by the time they gained the street, the Malfoy pair had disappeared just as successfully as they had.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading, guys! **

**Also, it's your LAST CHANCE TO SUBMIT A PUN. For those of you who**** do not know about the Pun Challenge, here is the information:**

**I want somebody to come up with a pun, so all you Pun Kings and Pun Queens out there, this is the challenge for you! I'd like you to come up with a pun to fit the theme 'supernatural'. And it needs to be like a title. Why can't I just call it 'Supernatural', you ask? Well, because ****people will think instantly of the TV show. I can't call it 'Paranormal' either, because that's just weird, and besides, it makes me think of paranormal activity. Any thoughts/ideas, anybody?**

**The winner of the 'Pun Challenge', as I'm now calling it, will be announced on Sunday 4th May, when I publish another chapter of this story, so you will have three or four days left to submit it to me. You can either post it as a review, or you can PM me. Either way is fine. ****The winner will have 3 of their stories reviewed by me.****  
**

**Good luck. **

* * *

**Please review, and do include your answer to today's Random Review Question, which is...**

_**How do you eat your bread (e.g. toasted, grilled, etc.)?**_

**Now, I must answer this question - I _always_ eat mine fresh out of the toaster, piled with butter and home-made jam. It may be a very boring meal for some, but for me, this is a delicacy! :D**


	10. Chapter Eight

**A/N: Yep, I have decided to post another chapter today, to make up for all the lack of action in this fic so far. But I can promise you that soon, things will get (slightly) interesting!**

******Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Cindelina, whom I cannot live without. How we manage to tolerate each other, I will never know.**

******I'd also like to thank each and every one of you for all of your amazing reviews and feedback! We have exceeded the '50 reviews' mark, and that makes me so happy!**

******Enjoy the chapter! Again, this is mainly summary...**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Eight

"He was going in that direction," murmured Harry as quietly as he could, so that the humming Hagrid could not hear them. "C'mon."

They scurried along, peering left and right, through shop windows and doors, until Hermione pointed ahead. "That's them, isn't it?" she whispered. "Turning left?"

"Big surprise," whispered back Ron.

For the Malfoys had glanced around, then slid into Knockturn Alley and out of sight.

"Quick, or we'll lose them," said Harry, speeding up.

"Our feet will be seen," said Hermione anxiously, as the cloak flapped around their ankles; it was much more difficult hiding all three of them under the Cloak nowadays.

"It doesn't matter," said Harry impatiently. "Just hurry!"

But Knockturn Alley, the side street devoted to the Dark Arts, looked completely deserted. They peered into windows as they passed, but none of the shops seemed to have any customers at all. Harry supposed it was a bit of a giveaway in these dangerous and suspicious times to buy Dark artefacts - or, at least, to be seen buying them.

The trio passed several mentally insane wizards, one of which was banging his head on a brick wall. Harry had turned his head to stare at him when Hermione gave his arm a hard pinch.

"Ouch!"

"Shh! Look! They're in there!" she breathed in Harry's ear.

They had drawn level with the only shop in Knockturn Alley that Harry had ever visited, Borgin and Burkes, which sold a wide variety of sinister objects. There amidst in of all the cases full of skulls and old bottles stood Draco Malfoy with his back to them, just visible beyond the very same large black cabinet in which Harry had once hidden to avoid Malfoy and his father. Narcissa, along with a few other dodgy-looking people, formed a half-circle around Malfoy. Judging by the movements of Malfoy's hands, he was talking animatedly. The proprietor of the shop, Mr Borgin, an oily-haired, stooping man, stood facing Malfoy. He was wearing a curious expression of mingled resentment and fear.

"If only we could hear what they're saying!" said Hermione.

"We can!" said Ron excitedly. "Hang on - damn -" He dropped a couple more of the boxes he was still clutching as he fumbled with the largest. "Extendable Ears, look!"

"Fantastic!" said Hermione, as Ron unravelled the long, flesh-coloured strings and began to feed them towards the bottom of the door. "Oh, I hope the door isn't Imperturbable -"

"No!" said Ron gleefully. "Listen!"

They put their heads together and listened intently to the ends of the strings, through which Malfoy's voice could be heard loud and clear, as though a radio had been turned on.

"...you know how to fix it?"

"Possibly," said Borgin, in a tone that suggested he was unwilling to commit himself. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"

"I can't," said Malfoy. "It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."

Harry saw Borgin lick his lips nervously. "Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."

"No?" said Malfoy, and Harry knew, just by his tone, that Malfoy was sneering. "Perhaps this will make you more confident."

He moved toward Borgin and was blocked from view by the cabinet. Harry, Ron and Hermione shuffled sideways to try and keep him in sight, but all they could see was Borgin, looking very frightened.

"Tell anyone," said Narcissa in a cold tone, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend. He'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."

"There will be no need for -"

"I'll decide that," said Draco, looking at his mother, who nodded. "Well, we'd better be off. And don't forget to keep _that_ one safe, I'll need it."

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it."

"Of course not...sir and madam." Borgin made a bow as deep as the one Harry had once seen him give Lucius Malfoy.

"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes Severus Snape, understand?"

"Naturally, naturally," murmured Borgin, bowing again.

Next moment, the bell over the door tinkled loudly as Malfoy and his mother stalked out of the shop looking very pleased with themselves. They passed so close to Harry, Ron and Hermione that they felt the cloak flutter around their knees again. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice but Harry saw Narcissa frown and turn around momentarily to look behind her before walking on. Inside the shop, Borgin remained frozen; his unctuous smile had vanished; he looked worried.

"What was that about?" whispered Ron, reeling in the Extendable Ears.

"Dunno," said Harry, thinking hard. "He wants something mended...and he wants to reserve something in there...could you see what he pointed at when he said 'that one'?"

"No, he was behind that cabinet…"

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**A/N: Sorry, guys this chapter was just another summary - and a very short one at that. In the next chapter, we will be abroad the Hogwarts Express.**

* * *

**LAST CHANCE TO SUBMIT A PUN! For those of you who**** do not know about the Pun Challenge, here is the information:**

**I want somebody to come up with a pun, so all you Pun Kings and Pun Queens out there, this is the challenge for you! I'd like you to come up with a pun to fit the theme 'supernatural'. And it needs to be like a title. Why can't I just call it 'Supernatural', you ask? Well, because ****people will think instantly of the TV show. I can't call it 'Paranormal' either, because that's just weird, and besides, it makes me think of paranormal activity. Any thoughts/ideas, anybody?**

**The winner of the 'Pun Challenge', as I'm now calling it, will be announced on Sunday 4th May, when I publish another chapter of this story, so you will have three or four days left to submit it to me. You can either post it as a review, or you can PM me. Either way is fine. ****The winner will have 3 of their stories reviewed by me.****  
**

**Good luck. **

* * *

**No RRQ for this chapter, sorry - but please do review anyway, if you have the time. **

**Now, I'll be off! I'd better go and reply to all of your lovely PMs and reviews, otherwise my inbox will be very crowded. Do keep up the feedback! :)**


	11. Chapter Nine

**A/N: Hey everybody (wave)**

**Thank you guys all so, so, _so_ much for these reviews I've been getting! 60 reviews! Already! :D**

**Now, I'd like to give a few shout-outs. First of all, to my lovely beta, Cindelina. Cindy, I hope you know how grateful I am to have you as such an awesome friend and editor. Secondly, I'd like to thank ****TrisanaChandler13 for her wonderful support. Next up is cellester, who is a life-saver with her sharp eyes that look out for any mistakes in my writing. And lastly, thank you to GinnyJackson and FairyGurl for her encouragement as well. I wouldn't know what to do without all of you guys. :)**

**I'm going to publish another chapter tomorrow, and then it'll be back to weekly updates, all right? Cool! Let's get onto reading the chapter. **

**(Mind you, this chapter isn't all that exciting. It's tomorrow's chapter that has all the juicy bits at the end - though not very much. But I promise that from now on things will get a bit more interesting.)**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Nine

"So what was Draco doing with that weird-looking cabinet? And who are all those people?" asked Harry, only to answer his own question. "Don't you see? It was a ceremony. An initiation."

"Stop it, Harry," Hermione interrupted him. "I know where you're going with this."

Harry ignored her. "It's happened. He's one of them."

"One of what?" said Ron, not really paying attention to what had been said earlier.

Hermione sighed impatiently. "Harry's under the impression Draco Malfoy is now a Death Eater," she explained slowly to Ron, enunciating every syllable.

Ron burst out laughing. "You're barking mad! What would You-Know-Who want with someone like Malfoy?"

"Then what's he doing in Borgin and Burkes? Browsing for furniture?"

"It's a creepy shop, he's a creepy bloke!"

"His father is a Death Eater. It only makes sense," Harry insisted stubbornly. "Besides, Hermione saw it with her own eyes."

"I told you, I don't know what I saw."

There was a short, tense pause before Harry stood up abruptly. "I need some air," he declared, reaching up to his trunk for his Invisibility Cloak.

He slid open the glass door and walked down the corridor, past many compartments before he reached the final compartment at the end of the train - the one that contained the Slytherin sixth-years. In his hand was a handful of Fred and George's trusty Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, which he threw in the air once he arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin compartment.

There were a few shouts and shrieks of surprise, but the students calmed down when they realised the sudden darkness wasn't due to a Dementor attack, like the one they had on the train three years ago.

Harry quickly slid the door open and shut it again once he was inside. He flung on his Invisibility Cloak just as the darkness began to clear. He leapt onto an empty seat and hoisted himself into the luggage rack. It was fortunate that the air was still quite stormcloudy, as he was sure his feet and ankles had been revealed as the cloak had flapped around them; indeed, for one horrible moment he thought he saw Malfoy's eyes follow his trainer as it whipped upwards out of sight.

"What was that? Blaise?"

"I dunno."

The air had now completely cleared, and Harry could see Malfoy standing up in the middle of the compartment, looking around frantically for the cause of the sudden darkness. Blaise Zabini was sitting casually in his seat, albeit looking slightly ruffled as well; Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, however, were paying no attention to the ruckus and were intently reading comics.

"Relax, boys. It's probably just some first-years messing around," said Pansy Parkinson from her seat next to Malfoy. "Come on, Draco, sit down. We'll be at Hogwarts soon."

Malfoy reluctantly sank back down across two seats with his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap. Harry sat curled uncomfortably under the Cloak to ensure that every inch of him remained hidden, and watched Pansy stroke the sleek blond hair off Malfoy's forehead, smirking as she did so, as though anyone would have loved to have been in her place. The lanterns swinging from the carriage ceiling cast a bright light over the scene. Harry could read every word of Crabbe's comic directly below him.

"Hogwarts," Malfoy sneered. "What a pathetic excuse for a school. Think I'd pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower at the thought of having to continue for another two years."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Parkinson indignantly, ceasing grooming Malfoy at once.

"Well, you never know," said Malfoy with the ghost of a smirk. "I might have - er - moved onto bigger and better things."

Crouched in the luggage rack under his cloak, Harry's heart began to race. What would Ron and Hermione say about this? Crabbe and Goyle were gawping at Malfoy; apparently they had no inkling of plans to move onto bigger and better things. Even Zabini had allowed a look of curiosity to mar his haughty features. Pansy resumed the slow stroking of Malfoy's hair, looking dumbfounded.

"Do you mean..._Him_?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it...when the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't...it'll be all about the kind of service He received, the level of devotion He was shown." He looked up at the ceiling as if contemplating something. "Obviously, Mother would support me in everything I do, so getting her onto my side of things is no problem."

Harry caught sight of Zabini smirking, and apparently Malfoy had too, for he narrowed his eyes and asked his fellow Slytherin, "Amused, Blaise?"

"No offence, but you think _you'll_ be able to do something for him?" asked Zabini scathingly. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"

"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," said Malfoy quietly.

Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Malfoy as though she had never seen anything so awe-inspiring. Zabini just sat there with that infuriating smirk on his face.

Malfoy scowled. "We'll see just who's laughing in the end," he said, a dark look crossing over his face. Silence fell over the compartment; it was as if Malfoy had just told them that it was inevitable for the Dark side to win. "Anyway, I can see Hogwarts," he declared in a totally different character to before, clearly relishing the effect he had created as he pointed out of the blackened window. "We'd better get our robes on."

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**A/N: We're almost there. Don't stress. Tomorrow's chapter will be better, I promise. :)**

**There's going to be an extremely important message in my Author's Note at the end of the next chapter, so make sure you guys read it!**

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**A reminder - this is your absolute LAST CHANCE TO SUBMIT AN ENTRY TO MY PUN COMPETITION! So, should you miraculously think up a pun that has anything to do with the supernatural world (and no, _not_ the television series), you'd better get your entries in quick! You can either leave a review here, or PM me. Either way is fine. Good luck!**

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**Random Review Question:**

_**If there was a fire at your house, what would be the first and only thing you would grab before you run out the door - if you have the chance to pick something up? What would be the one thing you would save from damage?**_


	12. Chapter Ten

**A/N: Hey everybody.**

**I would like to announce the winner of the Pun Challenge I set you a few weeks ago. For those who do not know what the Pun Challenge is, it was a challenge I set all the readers of this story to come up with a pun to fit the theme 'supernatural'. And it had to be a title. The winner is... (drumroll please)...TrisanaChandler13! Tris, you'll have 3 of their stories reviewed by me (even though I already do that - I could write a drabble or something for you instead, maybe). Congratulations! :D**

**Thanks to all those who participated as well - and even though there can only be one winner, y****ou are all brilliant Pun Kings and Queens.**

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**THERE IS AN EXTREMELY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER, SO MAKE SURE YOU READ IT!**

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**I'd like to thank my gorgeous beta, Cindelina, for her devotion to this story. And s****pecial thanks to dem bones, mazariamonti, and Harry1675.**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Ten

As the train slowed to a jerky crawl, Harry could see the corridors filling up again and hoped that Hermione and Ron would take his things out onto the platform for him; he was stuck where he was until the compartment had quite emptied. At last, with a final lurch, the train came to a complete halt. Goyle threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second-years, punching them aside. Crabbe followed.

"You two go on," Malfoy told Zabini and Pansy, who were waiting for him at the door, Pansy with her hand held out as though hoping he would hold it. "I just want to check something."

Pansy and Zabini left. Now Harry and Malfoy were alone in the compartment. People were filing past, descending onto the dark platform. Malfoy moved over to the compartment door and let down the blinds, so that people in the corridor beyond could not look in. He then bent down over his trunk and opened it again.

Harry peered down over the edge of the luggage rack, his heart pumping a little faster. What had Malfoy wanted to hide from his Slytherin friends? Was he about to see the mysterious broken object it was so important to mend?

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Without warning, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry, who was caught completely off guard but somehow managed to dodge the spell. However, in doing so, he had to jump off the luggage rack and therefore letting the Invisibility Cloak slip and reveal himself.

"I thought so," said Malfoy jubilantly, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he had not managed to paralyse his nemesis. "I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash after the darkness faded…" Realisation hit Malfoy, and he narrowed his eyes at Harry, who was standing up shakily, his wand drawn. "The darkness - it was you! But what spell did you use? Flitwick never taught us a spell to create instant darkness." Though he hated to admit it, Malfoy was curious. But that curiosity evaporated as soon as he saw Harry's smug expression, and he glared at his nemesis. "You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. I made sure of that." He and Harry circled each other slowly. "My mother has mentioned you a few times over the past few days, Potter. Any reason for this that you can think of?"

Harry deliberated over whether or not he should tell Malfoy about the Unbreakable Vow he had been pressured into making with Narcissa. He decided to keep quiet about it, at least until Narcissa gave him some indication to let her son know of their alliance. "No, not really," he replied.

His answer did not please Malfoy. "I don't know what you're doing with my mother, Potter, but I can tell you now that I will know about it sooner or later," he spat. "If you're trying to get my mother onto the Light side, you'd best give up now; there's no way that's going to happen with my father and the Dark Lord around."

Harry raised his eyebrows; how in Merlin's name did Malfoy come up with that conclusion? "I know what you're planning to do, Malfoy," said Harry quietly.

Malfoy drew up short. "What do you mean?"

"You're planning to kill Dumbledore, aren't you? For Voldemort."

Malfoy gaped at him, his eyes wide with horror. "How...how did you…?"

Harry smiled mysteriously. "I have my ways."

This snapped Malfoy out of his reverie. He glared at Harry. "You're not going to be able to stop me this time, Potter," he hissed. "You have no idea what I'm planning."

"What if I do?" Harry challenged.

Malfoy strode right up to Harry and grabbed him by his shirt. They were almost nose-to-nose. "Then you'll have the sense to stay out of my way," he growled, and roughly pushed Harry away.

Harry wasn't fazed by Malfoy's tactics. "Oh, come on, admit it; both of us know you're just a mama's boy. I bet you'll do anything to please your mother," he taunted, well aware that he was riling Malfoy up.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed to slits. "How _dare_ you! I am _not_ a -" Here, he stopped short.

Harry smiled smugly, knowing full well that he had struck a nerve. "If you don't want me to tell the whole world that you're just a big softie, then you'll listen and co-operate."

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Everybody stared as Professor Severus Snape emerged through the open doors of the Great Hall with none other than Harry Potter and notorious Draco Malfoy at his heels. The boys both had slight smiles on their faces - which was not out of the ordinary for the cheerful Harry, but was extremely unusual for any Slytherin to smile genuinely, let alone Malfoy - as they entered the Hall, but those expressions quickly transformed to irritated scowls as they realised that most of the Hogwarts population were gaping at them curiously.

The Great Hall, with its four long House tables and its staff table set at the top of the room, was decorated as usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. Snape stalked up to the front of the Hall and resumed his place at the staff table, his familiar sneer curling his lip. Simultaneously, both Harry and Malfoy turned in opposite directions and marched straight to their own respective House tables without uttering a single word to each other.

Harry spotted Ron and Hermione, sped along the benches toward them, and forced his way in between them.

"Where've you been?" said Ron, goggling at him along with everyone else in the vicinity.

"On the train, where else?"

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, a mixture of exasperation, impatience and anxiety evident in her voice. "What happened? We've been terrified!"

"Yeah, what happened? First you disappear on the train without saying a word to anybody -"

"I did! I told Hermione and Ron that I was going out for some air!" Harry told her indignantly, but Ginny continued on with her rant.

"- walk into the start-of-year feast half an hour late, and with Snape and Malfoy of all people! Look at you, you're not even wearing Hogwarts robes!" said Ginny. "And your shirt's torn at the neckline. Seriously, Harry, what's happened to you?"

"I'll tell you later," said Harry curtly. He was very conscious of the other Gryffindors listening in; even Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had come floating along the bench to eavesdrop. It wasn't that he didn't think them worthy of knowing about his adventures; it was just that they didn't _need_ to know.

"But -" Hermione protested.

"Not now, Hermione," said Harry in a darkly significant voice.

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**A/N: I hope you liked that! Now, let us proceed to the message I was talking about before.**

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**TEMPORARY HIATUS NOTICE - PLEASE READ!**

**Right. I'll launch straight into my message.**

**Over the next few weeks/two months I will be very busy with school, exam prep, personal things and all that.**

**What does this mean, you ask? What is my point?**

**Well, this means that I will be inactive on this site from 3rd May onwards for about a month or two - until June this year, at the very least. I'm sorry to all those who are requesting for beta-readers, and for everybody who wishes to contact me in general. But this does ****_not_****, in any way, hint to the fact that I won't be able to update any of my stories. No, no, no! I have pre-written all the chapters I will publish while I am inactive - more specifically, up to Chapter 20 (at least). So I can still update my story, as I don't think you guys would want to wait two months for another update.**

**Now, anybody who wishes to contact me while I am on my temporary hiatus, you can email me directly at ****_rosieposierw . fanfiction gmail . com_**** (remove all the spaces). Any beta-reader requests, email me at ****_rosieposierw . betareader gmail . com_**** (again, remove all spaces). You can still PM me, but chances are that I will not be able to get back to you before June this year.**

**I'm very sorry for all the inconvenience I have caused you all.**

**Best wishes,**  
**RosiePosieRW**

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**Random Review Question:**

_**Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4. What does it say?**_

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**Please do leave a review on your way out. It would make me so happy. :)**


	13. Chapter Eleven

**A/N: Hey everybody! How are you guys? It's been one l-o-n-g and hectic week for me - after all, it is the first week of school, what d'you expect? Gosh, it feels like _ages_ since the last update!**

**I'm so sorry if I haven't yet replied to your PMs, or if you've reviewed but I haven't thanked you yet. I will do that sometime before the end of next week, I promise! I'm eyeing my PM inbox warily...25 PMs! That's a _lot_ of PMs to reply to... :/**

**Now, this chapter and the next will be all from the book. Chapter Thirteen is the sixth-years' first DADA class, and I'm going to add my own little twist to it. But for now, let's get on with reading this one...**

**A massive thanks to my beta, Cindelina. Without her I would still be struggling with the planning of this story (in fact, I kind of still am).**

**Enjoy!**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Eleven

"You missed the Sorting, anyway," Hermione told him, as Ron dived for a large chocolate gateau.

"Hat say anything interesting?" asked Harry, taking a piece of treacle tart.

"More of the same, really...advising us all to unite in the face of our enemies, you know."

"Dumbledore mentioned Voldemort at all?"

"Not yet, but he always saves his proper speech for after the feast, doesn't he? It can't be long now."

"Snape said Hagrid was late for the feast -"

"You've seen Snape? How come?" asked Ron between frenzied mouthfuls of gateau.

"Harry walked in with him and Malfoy, didn't you see?" said Hermione impatiently. "Oh, will you _ever stop eating_?"

Ginny snorted. "As if. He's a pig as well as a blind old bat."

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true!" They continued on with their bickering.

Soon after that, Nearly Headless Nick rose into the air and glided back toward the far end of the Gryffindor table just as Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the hall died away almost instantly - with the exception of Ron and Ginny's banter, which they continued on with in loud whispers and hisses. Harry, Hermione and the other Gryffindors had to constantly _shush_ them so that they could hear Dumbledore clearly.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore said, beaming broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.

"What happened to his hand?" gasped Hermione.

She was not the only one who had noticed. Dumbledore's right hand was as blackened and dead-looking as it had been on the night he had come to fetch Harry from the Dursleys. Whispers swept the room; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injury.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…"

"His hand was like that when I saw him over the summer," Harry whispered to Hermione. "I thought he'd have cured it by now, though...or Madam Pomfrey would've done."

"It looks as if it's _died_," said Hermione, with a nauseated expression. "But there are some injuries you can't cure...old curses...and there are poisons without antidotes…"

"...and Mr Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." To this statement, there were groans uttered all around the Hall, and Harry swore that Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling - but weren't they always?

Dumbledore continued on with his speech. "Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn," - Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow - "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

"_Potions_?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"Potions?" said Ron and Hermione together, turning to stare at Harry. "But you said -"

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

The Gryffindors went into a frenzy, especially Ron and Hermione, who cried, "But Harry, you said that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts!"

Harry had half a mind to stand up and shout "No!" very loudly, but decided against it; he wasn't entirely surprised by this statement, but he wasn't exactly expecting it, either...after all, he had had enough strange occurrences over the summer holidays to make anyone go crazy.

Instead, he glanced across the Hall to where Malfoy was sitting over at the Slytherin table, and their eyes met. There seemed to be some sort of internal or mental communication between the two of them, and Harry guessed that Malfoy wasn't shocked by this news either.

"Harry!" A hand waved in front of his face, and the previous connection with Malfoy was gone. Harry's eyes stared at the hand as it moved back and forth in front of him, and then he shook his head furiously.

"What?" he asked.

"Why were you staring at Malfoy?" asked Ginny. Ron and Hermione ceased their questioning at once, and listened for his answer.

"Oh - er - nothing," said Harry quickly. His friends regarded him with a look of suspicion, so he insisted, "Nothing! I just looked around, and my gaze somehow just landed on him. No other reason."

Ron nodded slowly, believing his story, and turned to face Dumbledore once more. The girls weren't so easily convinced; they exchanged wary glances every so often, knowing that something was definitely going on. Harry simply ignored their questioning looks turned to face the front, too.

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up at the mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgement of the applause from the Slytherin table, yet Harry was sure he could detect a look of triumph on the features he loathed so much.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart's desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. Harry once more glanced at Malfoy. Malfoy was not looking at Dumbledore, nor at Harry, but was making his fork hover in midair with his wand, as though he found the Headmaster's words unworthy of his attention.

"I cannot emphasise strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of the staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them - in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories.

Harry, who was in no hurry at all to leave with the gaping crowd, nor to get near enough to Malfoy to allow him to brag about Snape's teaching victory, lagged behind, pretending to re-tie his shoelaces, allowing most of the Gryffindors to draw ahead of him. Hermione had darted ahead to fulfill her prefect's duty of shepherding the first-years, but Ron remained with Harry.

"What really happened?" asked Ron.

"I got held up on the train," said Harry. "Just like I said."

"Come on, Harry, really?"

"_Yes, really_. Let's go."

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**A/N: One more chapter, and then DADA. Do review if you have the time!**

**Random Review Question:**

_**If you could describe your life in one word, what would that word be and why?**_


	14. Chapter Twelve

**A/N: Hey everybody! It's lovely to see some familiar faces returning. :)**

**Here is Chapter Twelve. Again, it's from the book but next chapter's going to be different. I'm not kidding. Please bear with me, I'm trying my best.**

**Special thanks to my dearly beloved beta, Cindelina.**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Twelve

Harry and Ron met Hermione in the common room before breakfast next morning. Hoping for some support for his theory, Harry lost no time in telling Hermione what he had overheard Malfoy saying on the Hogwarts Express - but he took great care in choosing the right words to say, so as not to hint at anything suspicious.

"But he was obviously showing off for Parkinson, wasn't he?" interjected Ron quickly, before Hermione could say anything.

"Well," she said uncertainly, "I don't know...it would be like Malfoy to make himself seem more important than he is...but that's a big lie to tell…"

"Exactly. It's not a lie," said Harry, but he could not press the point, because so many people were trying to listen in to his conversation, not to mention staring at him and whispering behind their hands.

"It's rude to point," Ron snapped at a particularly minuscule first-year boy as they joined the queue to climb out of the portrait hole. The boy, who had been muttering something about Harry, behind his hand to his friend, promptly turned scarlet and toppled out of the hole in alarm.

Ron sniggered. "I love being a sixth year. _And_ we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up here and relax."

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione's frown was disapproving as they set off down the corridor.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron. "Today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

"Hold it!" Hermione called out sharply, throwing out an arm and halting a passing fourth-year, who was attempting to push past her with a lime-green disk clutched tightly in his hand. "Fanged Frisbees are banned, hand it over," she told him sternly. The scowling boy handed over the snarling Frisbee, ducked under her arm, and took off after his friends. Ron waited for him to vanish, then tugged the Frisbee from Hermione's grip.

"Excellent, I've always wanted one of these."

Hermione's remonstration was drowned by a loud giggle; Lavender Brown had apparently found Ron's remark highly amusing. She continued to laugh as she passed them, glancing back at Ron over her shoulder. Ron looked rather pleased with himself.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. They greeted Ginny, Dean and Seamus as they sat down and tucked into porridge with eggs and bacon. Harry couldn't help but notice that the former two looked very cosy together, and had an unmistakable notion that they were more than friends.

After they had eaten, they remained in their places, awaiting Professor McGonagall's descent from the staff table. The distribution of class schedules was more complicated than usual this year, for Professor McGonagall needed first to confirm that everybody had achieved the necessary O.W.L. grades to continue with their chosen N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione was immediately cleared to continue with Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions, and shot off to a first-period Ancient Runes class without further ado. Neville took a little longer to sort out; his round face was anxious as Professor McGonagall looked down his application and then consulted his O.W.L. results.

"Herbology, fine," she said. "Professor Sprout will be delighted to see you back with an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. And you qualify for Defence Against the Dark Arts with 'Exceeds Expectations'. But the problem is Transfiguration. I'm sorry, Longbottom, but an 'Acceptable' really isn't good enough to continue to N.E.W.T. level. I just don't think you'd be able to cope with the coursework."

Neville hung his head. Professor McGonagall peered at him through her square spectacles. "Why do you want to continue with Transfiguration, anyway? I've never had the impression that you particularly enjoyed it."

Neville looked miserable and muttered something about "my grandmother wants."

"Hmph," snorted Professor McGonagall. "It's high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have - particularly after what happened at the Ministry."

Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly; Professor McGonagall had never paid him a compliment before.

"I'm sorry, Longbottom, but I cannot let you into my N.E.W.T. class. I see that you have an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, however - why not try for a N.E.W.T. in Charms?"

"My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option," mumbled Neville.

"Take Charms," said Professor McGonagall, "and I shall drop Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her Charms O.W.L., the subject is not necessarily worthless." Smiling slightly at the look of delighted incredulity on Neville's face, Professor McGonagall tapped a blank schedule with the tip of her wand and handed it, now carrying details of his new classes, to Neville.

Professor McGonagall turned next to Parvati Patil, whose first question was whether Firenze, the handsome centaur, was still teaching Divination.

"He and Professor Trelawney are dividing classes between them this year," said Professor McGonagall, a hint of disapproval in her voice; it was common knowledge that she despised the subject of Divination. "The sixth year is being taken by Professor Trelawney."

Parvati set off for Divination five minutes later looking slightly crestfallen.

"So, Potter, Potter…" said Professor McGonagall, consulting her notes as she turned to Harry. "Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration…all fine. I must say, I was pleased with your Transfiguration mark, Potter, very pleased. Now, why haven't you applied to continue with Potions? I thought it was your ambition to become an Auror?"

"It was, but you told me I had to get an 'Outstanding' in my O.W.L., Professor."

"And so you did when Professor Snape was teaching the subject. Professor Slughorn, however, is perfectly happy to accept N.E.W.T students with 'Exceeds Expectations' at O.W.L. Do you wish to proceed with Potions?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I didn't buy the books or any ingredients or anything -"

"I'm sure Professor Slughorn will be able to lend you some," said Professor McGonagall. "Very well, Potter, here is your schedule. Oh, by the way - twenty hopefuls have already put down their names for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I shall pass the list to you in due course and you can fix up trials at your leisure."

A few minutes later, Ron was cleared to do the same subjects as Harry, and the two of them left the table together.

"Look," said Ron delightedly, gazing at his schedule, "we've got a free period now . . . and a free period after break . . . and after lunch . . . excellent!"

They returned to the common room, which was empty apart from a half dozen seventh years, including Katie Bell, the only remaining member of the original Gryffindor Quidditch team that Harry had joined in his first year.

"I thought you'd get that, well done," she called over, pointing at the Captain's badge on Harry's chest. "Tell me when you call trials!"

"Don't be stupid," said Harry, "you don't need to try out, I've watched you play for five years…"

"You mustn't start off like that," she said warningly. "For all you know, there's someone much better than me out there. Good teams have been ruined before now because Captains just kept playing the old faces, or letting in their friends…"

Ron looked a little uncomfortable and began playing with the Fanged Frisbee Hermione had taken from the fourth-year student. It zoomed around the common room, snarling and attempting to take bites of the tapestry. Crookshanks's yellow eyes followed it and he hissed when it came too close.

An hour later they reluctantly left the sunlit common room for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom four floors below. Hermione was already queuing outside, carrying an armful of heavy books and looking put-out.

"We got so much homework for Runes," she said anxiously, when Harry and Ron joined her. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and I've got to read these by Wednesday!"

"Shame," yawned Ron.

"You wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

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**A/N: ****I know you guys hate me for what I've been writing, but please review. And remember that the next chapter is going to feature the sixth-years' first Defence Against the Dark Arts class, which I'm going to vamp up a bit.**

**Also, I have had a guest reviewer request a Theodore/Luna story, and the prompts "crazy things" and "love". I must say, those prompts have sparked up an idea for a drabble that I'm halfway through writing. Thank you, _HP_, thank you very much for reviewing, and I will publish your requested drabble as soon as I'm done. :)**

**If anyone has any other story requests, feel free to go and vote on my poll, or if the pairing you request isn't on the list, PM-ing me or reviewing like _HP_ did is fine as well.**

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**Now, onto the RRQ:**

**__****What is your favourite television series? **

**__****Chances are that I may not know them, as I don't really like watching TV, but I am a huge fan of the extremely old American comedy series, ****Friends_. And I'm not even American! I also love _Home & Away_, and _Neighbours_, which are both Australian soap operas - and, of course, who can forget _Shortland Street_? It's the most amazing New Zealand TV series ever. :D_**


	15. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N: Good morning students, and welcome to DADA class. Let me introduce myself. I am Professor Snape, but you already know me very well as I have been teaching you all Potions for the past five years. I will be taking on the position of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year.**

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**I'd like to thank my beta, Cindelina, who has somehow found the time to edit my writing despite being on a tight schedule. You work far too hard, my friend. :)**

**Enjoy the chapter. **

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Thirteen

The classroom door opened as she spoke, and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

Harry looked around as they entered. Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candle- light. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on Harry's than anyone else's.

"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

_You believe . . . like you haven't watched them all come and go, Snape, hoping you'd be next_, thought Harry scathingly.

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."

Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice?

"Your defenses," continued Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" - he indicated a few of them as he swept past - "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" - he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony - "feel the Dementor's Kiss" - a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall - "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" - a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" said Parvati Patil in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now…"

He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.

"…you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well - Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Hermione, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from _The Standard Book of Spells_, _Grade Six_," said Snape dismissively (over in the corner, Malfoy sniggered), "but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some" — his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry once more — "lack."

Harry knew Snape was thinking of their disastrous Occlumency lessons of the previous year. He refused to drop his gaze, but glowered at Snape until Snape looked away.

"I will now divide you," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other _without speaking_. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in _equal silence_." Snape strode over to his desk, picked up a scroll of parchment and began reading out names. "Abbott, Patil. Brown, Bones. Finn- "

"Professor?" Parvati Patil cut in shyly, afraid of his reaction.

Snape looked up at her from his piece of parchment, mildly annoyed. "What is it, Miss Patil?"

"Um, which Patil do you mean, sir? There are two of us." Parvati gestured to herself and her twin sister, who was standing next to her.

"My apologies. _Padma_ Patil, you are with Miss Abbott," Snape amended, and continued reading from his list. "Finnigan, Goldstein. Granger, Parkinson. Longbottom…"

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks of horror between themselves.

"He wants me to work with _Parkinson_?" Hermione whispered, looking terrified. "She'll probably try to curse me while we're at this!"

Harry's eyes widened at the prospect, but Ron snapped, "Never mind you, who am I going to be partnered with?

"He's pairing us up with people from a different House, in case you hadn't realised," said Hermione quietly. "The teachers are trying out this new Inter-House Unity strategy this year, to get us to mix a bit more with people who aren't in the same House as us.

"He'll probably try to put me with Malfoy or something…" Harry muttered glumly.

"...Thomas. Potter, Weasley, Granger, is there a problem?" Snape interrupted them, his black eyes fixed on Harry.

"No, sir," the trio replied simultaneously.

"Then no more talking, otherwise I will be giving out detentions. Now, Macmillan, you're with Weasley. Patil - Parvati Patil - with Corner. Potter, Malfoy." He began rolling up the parchment. "You may begin."

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**A/N: There we have it, my friends. I hope you all liked that! **

**The next chapter is going to feature Harry and Draco's duel. Will it turn out to be a complete disaster like that one time when they duelled in Lockhart's Duelling Club in their second year? Or will it be different this second time? Stay tuned and find out next Sunday. **

**And please review! :)**

**Random Review Question:**

**_What is your worst habit (can be anything, does not have to relate to writing)?_**


	16. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N: Greetings, my friends! The wait is over! Let us proceed to the chapter...**

**...but before we do so, I must thank my dear beta, Cindelina, for all her hard work. It isn't easy, editing my writing.**

**This is my favourite chapter so far. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. :)**

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**Warning: (slightly) OOC Snape, Draco and Harry - but remember, Draco and Harry have seemingly reached an alliance, and therefore tolerate each other's friendship. As for Snape, well...you'll find out in later chapters. **

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the plot. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Fourteen

"Good luck with Parkinson," Harry told Hermione, who nodded, looking terror-struck, as they parted.

"Potter!" Malfoy was striding up to him. "Come on, let's get started." He caught sight of Ron, who was still standing by, and snapped, "What are _you_ doing here, Weasley? In case you're blind, your partner's over _there_." He pointed to where Ernie was standing beside the window.

"Right…I'll see you later, then, Harry," said Ron, looking gloomy, before he went off.

Malfoy sneered. "Anyone would think he's scared of being hexed."

"Yeah, he does look a bit…green," Harry agreed. He hated to speak of his best friend this way, but it was true that Ron did, indeed, look nervous as he approached Ernie.

Although Snape did not know it, Harry had taught at least half the class (everyone who had been a member of the D.A.) how to perform a Shield Charm the previous year. None of them had ever cast the charm without speaking, however. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud. Typically, ten minutes into the lesson Hermione managed to repel Pansy's muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without uttering a single word, a feat that would have surely earned her twenty or more points for Gryffindor had the teacher been anybody other than Snape, thought Harry bitterly, but which Snape ignored. He swept between them as they practiced, looking just as much like an overgrown bat as ever, lingering to watch Ernie and Ron struggling with the task.

Ron, who was supposed to be jinxing Ernie, was purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed to save himself from the temptation of muttering the incantation. Ernie had his wand raised, waiting on tenterhooks to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely ever to come.

"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape, after a while. "Here - let me show you -" He then proceeded to teach the two exactly how to cast spells non-verbally - by turning his wand on Ernie so fast that the boy had no time to block the Pimple Jinx that Snape sent his way, and his face erupted in boils almost immediately.

All the Slytherins in the room burst out in laughter, and there were a few snickers emitting from many other students, as well.

Harry paled; he had no idea what jinx or hex - or even curse - Malfoy was going to use on him, and he was afraid of the outcome.

Malfoy noticed his worried expression and smirked. "Scared, Potter?"

"You wish." Harry grinned. Being Malfoy's partner really wasn't as bad as he had expected; in fact, it was - dare he say it? - almost _fun_, even. The competitiveness, something he had never experienced with either Ron nor Hermione, was addicting. Though he'd never admit it aloud, of course.

Malfoy drew his wand out from his robes, and Harry imitated him. "Any spell, right?" the former boy asked.

"I think so, as long as it's non-verbal."

"Right, let's get to it, then. Ready, Scarhead?"

"Ready as ever, ferret-boy." Harry was reminded of their rather violent duel back in second year, and as his emerald green eyes locked with Malfoy's steel grey ones, he was sure that his partner was also thinking of that particular memory in his mind.

Suddenly, there was a feeling of déjà-vu as his legs began to move and soon, and he was dancing uncontrollably.

Malfoy snickered. "I thought you were ready, Potter."

"Indeed." Snape had come up to them unnoticed, and had seen Malfoy non-verbally jinx Harry. "Very good, Draco. Very good indeed." He turned to Harry, reversed the Dancing Feet Spell and looked at him expectantly. "Your turn, Potter. Let's see what you can do - though not much, I expect."

Spells stopped whizzing through the air as the whole class gathered around to watch the two enemies duel.

Harry ignored this jibe and concentrated on his non-verbal spell. Aware that the entire class was now watching, and with the added pressure of Snape looming over him, Harry thought quickly of some sort of hex or jinx to use on Malfoy. Knowing that Malfoy was more prepared than he let on, Harry flicked his wand ever so slightly, so as to lessen the risk of his spell being blocked, and thought _Rictusempra!_ in his mind.

It worked; Malfoy doubled over and started to laugh wildly. "Stop, stop! Make it stop!" he yelled, all the while clutching at his sides. A few students snickered at this rare sight of the big, bad Draco Malfoy bent over, chortling his lungs out.

With a flick of his wand to counter-jinx the Tickling Charm that Harry had set off on Malfoy, Snape stepped forward, grasped Malfoy's arm and pulled him upright. "You could have blocked that spell, Draco!" Harry could hear him hiss in Malfoy's ear. "This is an embarrassing tarnish on the name of Slytherin House!" With that, Snape drew himself to his full height and began treading back to his desk. However, before he was halfway across the room, he stopped and turned back around to face Harry. "Potter…excellent work. Five points to Gryffindor."

Snape's unexpected praise was heard throughout the classroom, which was now silent as everybody gaped at the professor, astonished. They were all shocked to hear Snape's words - in fact, some even gasped in surprise - for Snape praising Harry Potter was simply unheard of.

Snape caught the class gaping at him, and he snarked, "What are you all staring at? So far, not a single person has managed to successfully non-verbally jinx and block his or her partner - with the exception of Malfoy and Potter -" Hermione scowled indignantly, for she had cast a Knockback Jinx on Pansy _and_ blocked Pansy's Jelly-Legs Jinx without uttering a single word. "- so get to work! Those who have not managed today's task will earn themselves a detention with me."

There was a clamour as everybody hastily scrambled to their original positions and, once more, began to attempt to cast spells without opening their mouths.

Harry and Malfoy looked at each other and smirked.

"Nice one, Potter," said Malfoy. "I do enjoy a good laugh." At this, they both snickered.

"Did you really have to use that spell, Malfoy? The _Tarantallegra_?"

"Well, I do need to remind you that I'm better than you, don't I? What better way to do that than repeat history? Especially if that history involves me besting The Boy Who Lived." Malfoy grinned smugly. "That duel of ours back in second year is one of my highlights from Hogwarts."

"I played along, though, didn't I? After all, I did use the Tickling Charm on you in the duel as well. It caused a bit of a stir," said Harry, bringing back memories from Lockhart's failure of a Dueling Club back in second year.

"Like I said, I enjoy a good laugh." Malfoy paused. "But it was shocking to hear you being awarded House points by Snape."

"You weren't the only one to be. The whole _class_ was watching, in case you didn't notice."

"Ha. My godfather, the renowned Severus Snape, praising the weak Potty? A stinking _Gryffindor_? Not likely."

"It did happen, Malfoy, so don't deny it. For all we know, Snape's growing soft." Harry was enjoying this banter. "Besides, who'd have known we'd get along this well? A Malfoy and a Potter? No way."

"Now, don't go thinking we're friends, Potter," Malfoy warned, wagging his finger mockingly in Harry's face. "You refused my friendship back when we first met. It's going to take a lot of persuasion if you want to reclaim that offer, Potter."

"Pfft. As if I'd want to!"

"Yeah, right. Weasley and Granger can't be _that_ good as friends. Everybody wants -"

In Harry's opinion, this time was as good as any to jinx Malfoy again, so he thought desperately, _Immobulus!_, which they had learnt back in their second year Charms class with Professor Flitwick.

Once more, Malfoy was caught off-guard. The effect was immediate; Malfoy instantly froze mid-sentence, mouth agape. The Freezing Charm was similar to the Full Body-Bind Curse, only it immobilised the opponent without magically changing his or her posture. Harry thought it would be hilarious to freeze Malfoy, so he did, and it was even funnier than he had expected. The other students saw this and they all snorted and began discussing Malfoy's supposed weak point in dueling.

From across the classroom, Snape waved his wand lazily and the spell was removed from Malfoy. "Another five points to Gryffindor. Malfoy, you will see me after class."

Malfoy's eyes widened in horror as he regained his posture, and he turned to glare at Harry. "You've just guaranteed me a detention, Potter!" he hissed.

Harry only smiled smugly. "I thought you said you enjoyed a good laugh."

"I do, but not at _me_!"

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**A/N: Well? What did you think? I hope you enjoyed that! I certainly loved writing it. :D**

**Let me know your thoughts in a review...**

**...and, of course, do not forget the RRQ, which is:**

_**How do you handle stress?**_

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**Oh, I almost forgot to mention that I have begun to write a Harry/Narcissa one-shot, which is what some of you have requested. I figured I should get it out of the way, as it's reached number one on my poll and has been there for a ****_very_ long time. **


	17. Chapter Fifteen

**A/N: Hey everybody! ****I hope you enjoyed reading the last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)**

**Sorry to disappoint you, guys, but this is a short chapter.**

**I must thank my beta, Cindelina. She is a true angel.**

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**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All credit goes to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter Fifteen

"All right, you lot. That is enough for today," Snape announced loudly from his desk at the front of the room. Everybody ceased casting spells and quieted down at once. "Abbott, Bones, Brown, Finnigan, Longbottom, Macmillan, Parkinson, Thomas, Weasley. You have all failed to meet today's class requirements, therefore earning yourselves a detention. Saturday night, my office. Eight o'clock sharp - and be prompt, for I will be assigning any late-comers another detention." Many groans sounded amidst the class as the names of most of the students were called out.

"You will find," Snape continued, looking each and every student in the eye, "that the N.E.W.T. work - not only in this class, but in _all_ of your other N.E.W.T. classes - will be much, much more advanced and absolutely impossible to keep up with if you don't pay attention in class. I suggest you all take a leaf out of your teachers' books and revise and study." Advice from Snape? Now, _that_ was unheard of as well. "I expect better of you next lesson. Class is dismissed."

"That was brilliant, Harry!" chortled Ron, once they were safely on their way to break a short while later. "That look on Malfoy's face was _priceless_!"

Hermione beamed. "You did so well, Harry. Though I'm disappointed that Snape didn't acknowledge my achievement in class."

Harry patted her shoulder. "Don't be. You know Snape never compliments us."

"Since when did Snape praise Gryffindors, though?" asked Ron, puzzled.

"Gryffin_dor_," Hermione corrected. "He only praised one Gryffindor, and that was Harry."

Ron brushed off her statement easily. "Yeah, but Harry represents the whole House, don't you, Harry?"

"Mm."

"And you got us twenty points, too! I think we'll become the leading House for House points in no time with Harry," Ron told them proudly, slapping Harry on the back.  
Harry's response was the same. "Mm-hm."

"Ron, I suggest you quit celebrating and start reprimanding yourself for getting a detention in your first class of the year," Hermione scolded. "You should be ashamed!"

"You sound like mum," said Ron. "Always blathering on about school and classes and _grades_. Like anyone cares!"

"You will care once you apply for a job that requires multiple N.E.W.T. achievements!" Hermione retorted.

"You two, stop it," said Harry. He loved his friends to bits, but he was tired of having to continually play the peacemaker in their friendship. Ron and Hermione quickly ended their argument. "You know, I've been thinking about Snape's teaching position. What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defence? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff -"

"Well," said Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you." "Like me?"

"Yes, when you were telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn't just memorizing a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts - well, wasn't that what Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick thinking?"

Harry was so disarmed that she had thought his words as well worth memorizing as _The Standard Book of Spells_ that he did not argue.

"Harry! Hey, Harry!"

Harry looked around; Jack Sloper, one of the Beaters on last year's Gryffindor Quidditch team, was hurrying toward him holding a roll of parchment.

"For you," panted Sloper. "Listen, I heard you're the new Captain. When're you holding trials?"

"I'm not sure yet," said Harry, thinking privately that Sloper would be very lucky to get back on the team. "I'll let you know."

"Oh, right. I was hoping it'd be this weekend -"

But Harry was not listening; he had just recognized the thin, slanting writing on the parchment. Leaving Sloper in mid-sentence, he hurried away with Ron and Hermione, unrolling the parchment as he went.

_Dear Harry,_

_I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday._

_Kindly come along to my office at 8 P.M. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops._

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**A/N: Again, sorry for the length (shortness) of this chapter. I'm warning you now that the next three chapters will all be from the book, so you have the option to not read them. The reason for the next three chapters is because they're going to play an important part later on in the story.**

**Now, I realise that this is a very important milestone for this story, and I'm about to tell you why: we've passed 100 reviews! Thank you all _ever_ so much for taking the time to read and review, whether it's criticism or a 'thank you', whether you're a member of this site or a guest. And to all you guest reviewers out there, you don't know how much your reviews mean to me, so thank you.**

**Thank you, everybody, and here is the next RRQ:**

_**Would you rather eat poo-flavoured meat or meat-flavoured poo? Why?**_

_**(I know this is a **_**really_ random question - probably the most random question I've asked you guys to date - but I'll make up for it by telling you all that I'd rather eat poo-flavoured meat because it's still meat, whereas meat-flavoured poo is poo. And I'm not a fan of eating something that just came out of an animal's excretory system.)_**


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